


for always the thorn lies under the rose

by xxcaribbean



Series: under the rose universe [1]
Category: One Direction (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Coming Out, First Time, Genderqueer Character, Homophobia, M/M, Minor Eleanor Calder/Louis Tomlinson, Other, Sexual Content, Transgender, Transphobia, Unrequited Love, Zayn Malik is Veronica, derogatory slurs in relation to gender and sexuality, genderqueer!zayn/veronica, minor niall horan/marcel, references to fetishism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:58:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 107,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1933029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxcaribbean/pseuds/xxcaribbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>being comfortable with herself is one thing, but fearing the judgment of others comes with the territory. add in a bit of harassment, a touch of unrequited love, a twin who can’t keep his mouth shut, and a boss who can’t date for shit, and all veronica’s left to deal with is her emotions and how she plans to get through the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> kayla’s been really great with letting me know i was doing okay every time i’d freak out and call this story terrible. y’all should thank her i even made it this far, lol. she also provided the poem that’s in this story, so there’s another reason she’s really great. and i should also thank every single person who read this over before i published it. like, you know who you are, and you made me feel a hundred times better about this fic. so, thank you!
> 
> the title of this fic is taken from _Confessions_ by Jean-Jacques Rousseau.
> 
> there’s also a couple of things i want to point out. i tried to keep the notes short, but i really want to clear some things up, so. feel free to read this or not.
> 
> + _there are a few slurs in this. please keep that in mind._  
>  +i am well aware that this is not perfect by any means, but i tried my best to use veronica to my advantage in order to bring to light some things pertaining to gender (it really isn’t a box we can label. it’s not even a box anyway, so).  
> +i specifically wrote this story with the mind that veronica is genderqueer. however, i’d also like to believe i wrote this in such a way that she could identify as anything under the term transgender. she’s yours for interpretation. though with that said, she’s also a character you’re allowed to label, but let’s not do that to people in reality. they know who they are and are much less of a canvas for you to paint than a fictional character is.  
> +hrt isn’t something everyone decides to take. it’s a personal decision that involves doctors and side effects. [this](http://www.camh.ca/en/hospital/care_program_and_services/hospital_services/Documents/hormones-MTF.pdf) was my reference for this fic, though.  
> +if you’re not familiar with these terms, have a go at these links: [transgender](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FuZIp26WUKE&t=2m59s) (video of laverne cox who defines this so eloquently) and [genderqueer](http://genderqueerid.com/gq-terms). or you can research them for yourself because there’s plenty of really great websites out there.  
> +there’s a large part of myself that really wants to go in depth and explain some other things within this story, but i think that’s mostly because i researched and researched some more, and i just want to explain my perspective on how i wrote this. however, i’ll spare y’all from that and simply say that if you’ve got any questions, please let me know.  
> +i’m also crossing my fingers that i got this right. it’s one of my biggest fears that i fucked this story up because i got all of my information wrong. but someone once told me that the scope for this subject is so broad that even if someone doesn't agree with it (and what i've done), that doesn't necessarily mean it's wrong. it's one situation out of thousands, and i'd like to believe there's some truth to it.  
> +also, don't be mad. i know nothing of business practices so take all the office jargon with a grain of salt lmfao. if anything, that's the most anyone should be offended about, i think. x.x

++

Lesson one-oh-one: never open a door that is closed without knocking first.

Sure, it would’ve been common sense, but then again, this is an office, a public forum of work that shouldn’t involve any sex escapades featuring employees. So, when she opened the door and found a hand down his trousers, a blonde with her shirt unbuttoned, Veronica squeaked and immediately used the folders in her hands to cover her eyes.

“S-sorry,” she stutters now. She tries to slowly back out of the room, but it’s hard to walk backwards in heels, and she’s too afraid to uncover her eyes. “I’ll just come back. That’s a good idea; definitely!”

Rambling is a nervous habit she’s developed over the years. It doesn’t get her in trouble so much as it makes her look like an idiot. Now isn’t the time for steady conversation either, so she snaps her jaw shut and continues to try and make her way out of the room. Leaning backwards and reaching out a hand to get a feel for the door, she tries to shut it as quickly as she possibly can until a stern voice rings out that makes her stop.

“Veronica.”

She sighs and waits for the sound of fabric moving to cease.

“What did you need?”

It’s her boss that’s speaking. Veronica hasn’t a clue who the other woman is. Well, that’s a lie, kind of. It’s probably one of Liam’s new flings considering the last one stormed out of the office when he’d broken up with her. Veronica had been left a bit stunned at the dramatic exist of a woman scorned.

“Is it okay to look now? Because I’d very much like to do so, but only if you’re covered. That’d be a bit,” she pauses for a split second as if to time her last word, “unnecessary.” Veronica slowly lowers her arms inch by inch until the rims of her glasses peek over the edge of the folders, just enough so that she can get a glimpse and nothing more.

The coast is clear, though. Her boss is situated; the woman is covered. It’s all good.

Except it’s not because Veronica would very much like to be in that pretty girl’s position, but it’s so fucking cliché that she directs her thoughts elsewhere and not on the fact that her boss should potentially give her the time of day instead of just seeing her as the secretary that takes orders. Everyone has a place in life, and that one totally isn't hers.

“The folders?”

“Right.” She gives a little nod, running her tongue over her carefully painted lips to wet them as she makes her way over to her boss. “Mr. Wilson called about-“

“Isn’t he an investor?”

Veronica breathes out her nose and gives a tight-lipped smile. It’s not that she’s frustrated with the man, but it’s rude to interrupt when someone’s talking, and she doesn’t appreciate it. “Yes; the thing is, he scheduled a meeting in three weeks time. Shortly afterwards, the rumor mill kicked off, and there’s the potential chance he’s going to sell.”

“Liam?”

The attention is drawn away from Veronica’s statement to the girl leaning up against the boss’ desk. Veronica would like to call him Liam too; it’s a nice name, but she’s stuck with the job, so he’s known as Mr. Payne.

“Babe,” he smiles apologetically, “give us a minute?”

The woman who has no name (she does; Veronica just doesn’t know it, nor does she want to) shakes her head, eyebrows raised. “Fine, I’ll go get us something to eat. You want anything?”

And the only response she gets is a hum from Liam as he flips through the first folder and walks around to his desk to sit down.

Veronica kind of feels like she should make her exit given that miss priss looks none too pleased with that response; it’s also another good idea to leave them alone so they can work out whatever issue that has apparently risen since Veronica’s entered the room. However, as soon as she’s made the decision to do so, someone’s throwing a bit of a tantrum, storming out of the room and slamming the door in their wake.

“She’s pissed,” Liam says, eyes still glued to the papers before him.

The secretary gives him a dumbfounded look, but he doesn’t notice so she rolls her eyes in response. Clueless. Utterly clueless.

“I could’ve just left,” she shrugs. “This could’ve waited too.”

Her boss finally glances up before letting the folders fall onto his desk. “Right; if you’re going to give that response, then I might as well say you shouldn’t have even walked in.”

“Are you kidding?” It’s out of line, slightly, maybe, but hell, if anyone got burned here, it’d been Veronica. She had to witness the foreplay; the image still burns behind her eyelids. “How was I supposed to know the boss man was playing hanky-panky in his office? You know,” she twirls a finger around, “where a good majority of your employees work because this is their job, and it’s a public venue.”

Liam sits back in his chair, and he’s very difficult to read. He’s not at all threatening; Veronica would laugh if that were the case. Or maybe it’s just because she’s become desensitized to his ways and that adorably, handsome face.

No. Nope. He’s the boss, one of her employers. Can’t, won’t happen.

The fantasy is nice. It really is.

Maybe the fact that she’s eyeing the desk a little too strongly suggests she needs to get laid.

“This is my office, last I recall.”

“That’s a crap argument, and you know it. Me standing in here is proof enough that you may have the fancy, way-too-big-office-that-no one-really-needs. It doesn’t mean it’s wholly yours, especially when I need in here to tell you important things.”

Liam relents, relaxes his shoulders when he figures out he’s not going to win this one. “Alright,” he gestures to the chair in front of his desk, offering his assistant a seat. “Tell me what’s going on.”

She takes it, albeit hesitantly. It’s not often they have little chit-chats like this, mostly because Liam’s using the intercom system on his desk phone to give her another errand to run. It’s funny, she thinks, the job description hadn’t directly mentioned she’d be filling some big shoes. She handles more than her fair share, the weight of it drowned by a bottle of wine on Friday nights. It’s not like she can complain, though. She chooses to stick around despite her flat mate’s - named Harry - constant nagging that she can _and_ could do better, should actually be an employee by now instead of a low entry job holder at Source Lion Designs, a software company that garners millions of dollars by not only providing a myriad of products, but by giving prototypes of future applications and their inventors a chance to hit it big on the market.

It’s, well, all very complicated stuff that Veronica wants nothing to do with. She mostly works in an office full of men save for a girl named Lynn, a pretty little thing who barks more than bites, some redhead that works on another floor whom she’s only met once or twice, and several others who she hasn’t had the chance to become acquainted with. They’ve all got cubicles, and at least her desk sits towards the front of the building where the elevators are. Veronica has the chance to people watch and distract herself if a day ends up boring with nothing but calls and confirming appointments.

“Well,” she begins, “it’s all rumors at this point, but even I know when investors call, it means it’s something big.” Veronica fidgets in her seat, not at all comfortable with being scrutinized. It leaves worry in her veins that something about her may be found out of place. She’s perfected this art a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean the anxiety of someone seeing everything she’s worked hard to cover up is any less difficult to deal with. “The meeting’s in about three weeks. I tried to push it back further because I knew this would be a surprise for you, but they wouldn’t budge.”

Liam breathes deeply through his nose, sighs along with it before he’s reaching forward to grab a pen and a clean sheet of paper. He jots a few words down, Veronica not being able to see until he slides it over her way. Liam nods for her to take it.

When she does, she finds a name and some contact information written down in black chicken scratch. “What’s this for?”

“That,” Liam points, “is what you’re going to be doing today. I need you to start with those sources and work your way around until you can gather any and all information you can on this man.” As a nervous habit, Liam taps the pen against the desk. It makes a small clacking sound, which draws Veronica’s attention to it briefly. “If he’s planned a meeting, then he’s going to be here strictly for business purposes, and this company can’t afford to lose a big investor. If we do, that opens the door for others to follow suit.” He shakes his head, eventually dropping the pen before running his hands over his face. He looks worn for a split second, bags under his eyes, small creases around his mouth, much more visible than before. “We’ll have to give him a presentation and convince him not to leave. The more info I have on him,” Liam points to the paper tucked safely within Veronica’s hand now, “the better it’ll be for me to hit his interests.”

“So like, manipulating?” Veronica asks.

Liam does nothing but purse his lips. “Sure, although I’d like to think it’s more along the lines of incentive and persuasion rather than making him believe he wants to stay. It’s business, Veronica. Hopefully you understand.”

She doesn’t. Not really, and it’s not because she’s stupid either. She’s overheard enough conversations to know at least half of what everyone in this office talks about, but when it comes to a position like Liam’s, well, she’s grateful she’s not in it. The pay and benefits might be splendid (as is the abundance of potential relationships despite how fake they all have been so far from what she’s seen), but with it comes responsibility and a mind that can calculate like an old man filled with greed. Veronica doesn’t think Liam’s one of them; he’s no Harvey, and he’s no Jonny – the bigwigs that ultimately hold power over the entire company - but in order to play the game correctly so the higher ups (those above Liam’s pay grade) think he’s exactly like them, Liam’s got to have a wit about him that shows no mercy, play into their needs while ultimately getting everything he’s wanted himself.

How he’s managed to remain so kind, that is one mystery Veronica has not been able to figure out during the two years she’s worked here. Then again, she’s probably just biased because she finds anything Liam does fascinating. Marcel makes fun of her for her little crush, but it’s mostly because he doesn’t understand the real turmoil Veronica’s feelings bring for herself.

“Right,” she smiles. “I’ll get on this right away then.” As soon as she finishes, she stands up to leave without waiting for a dismissal.

It’s when she’s opening the office door that Liam calls out for her again, so she turns around and gives him her full attention.

“Find as much as you can by the end of your shift and then send it my way,” he says. The corner of his eyes crinkle softly as he lets his lips form into a shy smile. Although, it ends up dropping just as quickly as it had appeared in favor of hesitation a few seconds later. “Also, don’t let-”

“My lips are sealed, Mr. Payne,” Veronica interjects. She brings her fingers closer to her mouth, painted a deep shade of red, and twists them as if she’s locking them shut. Afterwards, she gives a little dip of her head as a farewell gesture before walking out of the office to her desk that sits on the other side of the lobby, adjacent to Liam’s.

+

“He’s literally going to be the death of you, isn’t he?”

She’s got the urge to slap him upside the head, but he’s carrying a take out container, and there's a possible chance it’s for her. Veronica would rather not ruin her chances with potential food, so she smiles tightly and replies with, “I’m going to ignore that because I assume you bought me lunch. How thoughtful.” She makes grabby hands towards the meal as soon as Marcel is close enough. He teases her though, pulls it out of her reach until she pouts. “C’mon, I’m starving.”

“Only if you fill me in on what’s going on. You don’t think twice about food when you're working unless you’re trying to take your mind off of something.”

Veronica gives Marcel a mock-hurt look until he sets the box down in front of her. “I can’t tell you,” she says. It’s Chinese food, and it smells delicious. “Thanks, by the way. You didn’t have to.”

Marcel shrugs and waves it off. “My pleasure, now spill.”

She tilts her head, taking a large bite of her food with a smile on her face because they both know she’s stalling. Really though, it’s more along the lines of her not wanting to go into detail about her morning. Sure, she’s involved in office gossip _occasionally_ , but when it comes to Liam, well, that’s different. It’s always different. Sometimes she thinks she’s got these certain looks, or moods, or _something_ because anything that happens with her boss tends to affect her in some odd way, which means Marcel is the first to pick up on it, the bastard. He’s her best friend, so maybe it’s expected of him to know these things, but he also recognizes the torment of being stuck in an unrequited love.

“Fine,” Veronica gives in as soon as she’s swallowed a bite of food. She stares down at it with longing, but it’ll have to wait. “He- wait. Before I start this,” her elbow rests on her desk, just in front of the keyboard, finger pointed at Marcel, “you swear you can’t tell anyone.” She quirks an eyebrow.

“I would never!” But he bites his lip and effectively gives himself away.

“Marcel, I mean it. Not even Leeroy can know, okay?”

“Is it _that_ bad?”

“Well,” she drawls. “Technically speaking, not really, but this is coming from me. So, do with it what you will.” She turns her attention back to her computer screen where various tabs with all the research she’s done on the investor are still pulled up. Veronica will have to organize it all and print copies for Liam by the end of the day, and so far, what she’s found hasn’t been much. Names and companies and other investments, sure. It’s public record and all that; it’s easy to locate, but actually finding key points that Liam, or whoever will be in the meeting, can use is going to take a little longer to find. “He’s seeing someone else. I caught them in his office nearly getting down to business.”

Marcel grimaces. “Oh. _Oh_ , I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, rests her chin in the palm of her hand. “Like, I shouldn’t complain here. What he does is his business, but it’d be great if he kept it away from work. I’m tired of having to field calls for him, too.”

“You can’t really blame him though, can you?” Marcel decides to chime in, always the voice of reason, he is. “I know it’s upsetting; god, I remember how that was-”

“Oh, shut it,” Veronica waves him off. “The only reason you weren’t going with Niall in the first place was because you were too scared. You knew good and well he was sweet on you. Don’t give me that bullshit, and let me have my moment of mourning.” She sticks out her tongue at her friend just so he knows she’s not really upset with him. Although, she finds him blushing, cheeks pink and ears so red she’d probably burn if she touched them.

“I was a nerd, Veronica. I _am_ a nerd, and why in the world would Niall want to go out with me?” He shakes his head. “I still question myself because it’s Niall for crying out loud! Just because I have him doesn’t mean I’ve got him for good.”

She sees the way he looks away, unsure of himself and very sincere in his admission. The one thing Veronica will never understand is how the man in front of her - claimed nerd or not - will never wrap his mind around the fact that Niall will not be going anywhere anytime soon. They’d met at uni, and while Niall-the-Irishman had been a bit of a player, he’d had a soft spot for sweet ole’ Marcel. They all knew it, but Veronica thinks it breaks her heart to see him like this because it’s exactly what she sees in herself. Her friend gives her hope that not all relationships are trouble, but with his doubt comes fear, and that leaves Veronica in the same predicament.

Because if Marcel’s terrified of his boyfriend leaving him for simply being what everyone believes is geeky, then who’s to say that anyone would ever truly understand, or most of all, accept her?

“You listen to me,” she pushes aside her food in favor of patting Marcel’s hand, “if that were true, if _any_ of it were true - you know all that shit you think about yourself - Niall woulda left a long time ago. You’re the reason I still wish, yeah?” She nudges his side, has to lean over her desk a bit since Marcel hasn’t moved from his position. “Besides, if it wasn’t for you two-” She cuts herself off, eyes widening slightly while her mouth thins into a line.

“Veronica-” Marcel tests the waters.

“Sorry,” she shakes her head, smiles brilliantly in return. “Didn’t mean to start in on that.”

Marcel nods but rounds the desk until he’s in front of Veronica. He tugs her out of her chair in order to draw her into a quick hug. “It’ll work out, you know. It always has, and besides, something good will happen. Maybe not with Liam,” he shrugs, “but with someone else. There’s always Harry.”

Veronica feels the bubble of laughter escape her throat quickly. “Bugger off. I am not ending up with your brother. Dunno what the hell you’re thinking.”

The smirk on his face grows, glad to see Veronica in a better state. “You never know, V. You never know.”

She shoves at his shoulders and tells him to get back to his desk so that she can finish her meal and finish up her own bit of work. She’s grateful, more than that, because even if Marcel’s truthful and a little too smart for his own good, he’s one of the best things that’d ever happened to her.

+

She knocks this time. Even though she’d seen the woman leave earlier, a smile on her perfectly pouted lips, it’s still best to make sure that Liam’s actually okay with her coming into his office.

There’s a shout before she pokes her head through the crack of the door, carefully stepping in just in case Liam’s actually busy doing anything else. However, he’s only on his computer; the keys make noise as he presses them, probably typing out an email, or another business report. Who knows.

“I have what you asked for,” she states when she realizes he’s not going to glance her way.

Veronica’s voice must startle him though, because as soon as she’s said it, he draws back, nods and stands up from his chair to meet his secretary halfway. “Good,” he says, taking the papers from Veronica. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.

She shakes her head. “Not at all, although that’s probably saying something pertaining to my skills as a potential stalker. I think I’m a lot more comfortable knowing I have the guise of a fortune 500 company on my side with this one.”

Liam cracks a smile and takes a seat on one of the leather couches. Yeah, the room’s big enough for it, with a coffee table conveniently placed directly in front. Her boss spreads out the sheets of paper, organizing them so it’ll all make sense to him regardless of the fact that Veronica already took her time to list everything she found, neatly.

“Mostly it’s just records of previous companies he’s been associated with. He’s wealthy, obviously,” she takes a chance and sits down, careful that she keeps a considerable distance between them on the couch, “and so his investments seem sporadic. However, he’s got a kid.”

“What’s that have to do with anything?” Liam’s brow furrows; the sleeves of his dress shirt are pulled up and bunched at his elbows. He’s got on a silver watch, slick and probably a Rolex because he’s the best and has earned it. “Family might be important, but I highly doubt they’ve got much of a say in what he does with his money. Businessmen like this can be assholes.” His cheeks turn a little pink, and he coughs out a, “Sorry. Language.”

Veronica holds back a snicker but doesn’t comment, revels in his politeness.

“They think they know what’s best, and maybe they do. If they’re old, they’ve been in the game long enough-”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Veronica interrupts with a light tone. She’s not angry, more so bemused.

Liam flushes even further. “Sorry. Manners seemed to have escaped me today.”

Veronica hums but ignores his statement in favor of plucking the current paper out of Liam’s hand. She rearranges all of them while Liam sits back and watches. There are dates and times, lists and information, but she knows, spent the rest of her day doing this just for Liam’s sake. “If you’ll take a look,” she finally reassures him, moving her upper body out of the way so that Liam can glance over her quick work, “you’ll notice that most of his recent investments - recent being within the past five years, mind you - all have to do with things old men,” her mouth quirks up, taps her fingers against her knee, “wouldn’t bother messing with. They aren’t strictly toy companies, but they are electronics, things teenagers would most likely be into. A son, perhaps?”

Something washes over Liam’s face, understanding and wonder, and while Veronica could’ve complained about how easy doing all of this was, despite the hours it actually took, any complaint she might’ve had before disappeared the moment Liam smiles. He doesn’t look at her at first, but when he finally twists himself in her direction, Veronica’s nearly knocked breathless. The crinkle by his eyes, the stretch of his lips, goddamnit, Veronica smiles, too. She can’t help it, nor can she help the way that there’s a swirl of butterflies that swim in her stomach, little feet prickling her heart with emotions because this is rare. It is, and Veronica doesn’t know if it’s okay for her to know that. Liam doesn’t smile like this often because well, she’s only the assistant for one, and two, Liam’s so busy cooped up in his office that it feels like he lives here sometimes. It’s got to be somewhat depressing no matter how much Liam tries to convince himself that he enjoys it.

And so Veronica, if anything, feels lucky, because even if she’s not the one that Liam goes home to at night, or that he’s not the one she gets to have fun with in the office during the middle of the day by seeing how quick the both of them would be able to get off without anyone noticing, this though- it’s the adoration and this dumb but beautiful smile that has kept her around for so long.

“The key that’ll unlock the door,” Liam finally says. He doesn’t pull her into a hug, just gathers up the papers in such a way that he’ll be able to spread them out again like Veronica had. “Uhm, I’m sure you want to leave now though. Thank you, Veronica. I appreciate this. I’ll find a specific way to use this angle, and yes,” he’s still grinning, even as he stands and waits for his assistant to do the same. “You can go now. I think you’ve done enough for today. You’re brilliant; thank you.” He fumbles with his words in his excitement, but this time, Veronica’s the one that flushes a deep shade of pink before exiting the office.

Marcel bugs her about it later when he notices her as he’s leaving for the day, but this is something she keeps to herself, happy and just a little bashful at the small but appreciative response she received.

++

_It’s seventeen when the decision comes to renovate himself. No longer does he have the wiry, lanky frame of a boy at thirteen, nor the mind of a young child, eager to take the world in with only one outlook on life._

_It’s nearly eighteen when the change can physically be seen. The clothes gradually fill his closet, and his mannerisms turn much more subtle, dainty. The biggest aspect is the hair. Gone away are the makings of what could be a beard, in favor of locks that begin to the frame the face. It’s always pulled back, away, people believing he’s one of those dudes who just enjoys long hair, a skater, maybe._

_But it’s freedom._

_He doesn’t step out into anything in fear of uncertainty, that maybe it’s just an experiment, but with the help of his sister’s hand, the makeup is done, and the hair is just past his shoulders. Check mate. It’s sealed; there’s really no going back._

_His friends know at this point, Eleanor first letting him borrow the tube of lipstick to practice drawing an awkward circle to frame plush lips, and Harry treating him well enough to understand that things are changing. It’s no longer Harry and Zayn, but new, better._

_Halloween of that year is the first step out of the house, the cautious look of his unknowing mother, and Harry’s excited giggles because everyone_ loves _candy._

_Conspicuous without meaning to be, practice without dehumanizing stares. The feeling of a full grown smile gracing his lips and looking at Eleanor because it fits, and he’s happy, and there’s nothing in the world than being comfortable._

_Tears prick the corners of his eyes, and Zayn can’t help it._

_“I’d like to tell them tonight,” he says as they walk. He’s thankful for the flats, still wary of the heels that sit in Eleanor’s closet._

_“Oh?” She knows. Of course she knows, with the way she’s clinging to him, arms circled around his own as they walk down the street with Harry just ahead, curls bouncing as he points and admires people’s costumes._

_“Yeah,” he insists. “Like, I want to. They’ll see me exactly how I want, and there’s no better explanation, is there?”_

_Eleanor hums, but squeezes his upper arm. “Lad, if that’s what you wanna do, if you’re ready,” she glances up at him, sparkle in her eye, “you go for it. S’taken you this long to get here, and it’s only the beginning.”_

_And he does, with Doniya’s knowing smile, his mother’s confused but loving face, and his father- baba._

_Zayn doesn’t just declare his sexuality, but his gender is brought into question, and the only thing he can do is tremble and ask for forgiveness for something he cannot change._

_It doesn’t stop the most important man in his life from leaving the room, and it doesn’t stop his mother from going after him, but it does bring about his sisters gathering close with faint touches and curiosity._

_“I’m still me,” he whispers to Waliyha. “Just a bit different.”_

_“And you like this? Being a girl.”_

_Zayn shakes his head and takes her hand, guides her to the couch. “Both, babe. I like me, and I like pretty things, too.”_

_“Okay,” she says, like that’s all the explanation needed. There’s no disgust, nothing but admiration resting in all those beautiful eyes, his sisters._

_And it’s not too long afterwards, when Safaa’s had her fair share of inquisitiveness answered, and Waliyha’s done asking about the makeup and the glasses, that his parents reenter the room, almost sullen. The girls are sent away to their rooms, somewhere else in the house, Zayn doesn’t know, but he’s faced with reality once again, not quite sure what’s to happen._

_Until his mother engulfs him in a hug, nearly scoops him into her lap, fingers running through his hair. “Should’ve told me, sunshine.”_

_He does nothing more than hold onto her tighter._

_Of course, out of the corner of his eye is his father, strong and handsome, a giant in Zayn’s eyes; at least, that’s what he used to think when he was a young lad, barely four and huddled close while baba read him his nightly story, or taught Zayn the beginnings of his own language._

_“You’re upset?” he asks, whispers when he pulls away from his mother._

_And there’s no answer, not until Trisha takes her leave, and Zayn’s left with scrutiny and judgment._

_Yet, it never comes._

_Not like he expects it to. There’s still a litany of confusion, and maybe the possible mourning of a son, but Zayn, bless him, stresses that it’s not about one or the other. He’s not trapped, doesn’t feel the need to change too much. Just wants to look like a proper lady, yet keep everything else about him the same._

_“I’ll understand,” he says, “if you’re disappointed. I- well, I expect it, baba.” Too human, he is, but now’s the time to lay down all the cards onto the table. Too much at one time is a loser’s game that he doesn’t have time to play; it’s all or nothing, or else he can’t move forward._

_“Disappointed, Zayn, never.” Yaser shakes his head, still standing, hands tucked into the pocket of his jeans. “You’ll be patient with us? Your mother and I, won’t you?”_

_Zayn can feel the beginnings of his heart swelling within his chest. “Always,” he breathes._

_And then he’s tucked into his father’s side, broad chest and warm, and Zayn feels lucky, feels relief. So, he stays there, clings to his baba until Yaser leans down and kisses his forehead, a loving smile on his face, thumbs brushing the new outline of Zayn’s jaw. “S’been a long night.”_

_“Yes,” Zayn agrees. “I- thank you.”_

_The soft grin his father graces him does not match any one emotion Zayn could’ve possibly felt in that moment because he realizes the tragedy this could’ve been. He knows he’s not fully in the clear, that time will ultimately be a benefactor into future behavior and acceptance, but it’s a start, one Zayn didn’t think he’d get the chance to have. Ever._

++

Marcel and Veronica get home in record time. They don’t drive to the office together considering Veronica’s habit of running late, the sweater-vest loving friend of hers not having enough patience to wait on her. Gas may be an issue, but Marcel’s got a bit of an itch to make it into work on time. Bending the rules is not his forte.

However, when they get in, the boys - consisting of both Louis and Niall - are on the couch watching the latest game on the teli. There’s already popcorn and open beer cans everywhere, and Veronica sighs because she’ll probably be the one to clean up the mess. “Spilling the popcorn is one thing,” she frowns, removing her coat to place it in the closet; she takes Marcel’s when he hands it to her too, “but the feet on the coffee table is not okay.” She makes her way over to them (despite the urge to take off her heels) to swat at them.

Marcel makes himself at home on the couch, digging into the popcorn before pulling Veronica down next to him.

“El’s in the kitchen,” Louis mumbles, sitting forward so he can really focus on the tv. He licks his lips, gaze focused intently on whatever the fuck is going on.

“The poor thing,” Marcel adds. “You left her here with the two of you and abandoned her for football.”

“Hey now,” another voice chimes in.

Everyone’s attention turns to the doorway of the kitchen only to find Eleanor with a hand on her hip. “Who’s to say I wasn’t watching it with them?” She looks mad, which only has Marcel cowering back further into Niall. It’s only when El notices him that she softens. “‘m joking, Mar. Sorry.”

Veronica keeps her laughs at bay but squeezes his hand nonetheless. “Come join us then.” She pats the empty seat beside her, which wouldn’t be there if Marcel wasn’t half in Niall’s lap, face buried into his neck. They’ll be a little cramped, but it’s usually how every night goes anyway.

Eleanor beams and quickly runs over - although it’s more like she glides because of the glossy wood floors, and she’s got on socks. “How’s it?” she asks as soon as she’s settled. Normally she’d be curled up next to Louis, but she probably found that pointless given he’s still focused on the game. Either way, she’s more interested in her best friend than anything else right now.

“She,” Veronica says quickly, looking up through her eyelashes. She has to push her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose, but she smiles while Eleanor nods.

“Gotcha, darlin’. You look tired.”

The answer she gets in return is a snort, but Eleanor doesn’t mind, not when her finger finds Veronica’s hair to play with, a curl that’s wound tightly distracts her from the noisy commotion of shouts when someone scores a goal. “Thanks, I guess? I don’t even know why I’m sitting. Been doing it all day.” It’s true, though. She’s not quite sure why her ass doesn’t hurt by now. Maybe it’s because she’s learned to take breaks every two hours so she’s not in the same position for so long. She’s missed calls because of it, but she’d rather deal with that than have parts of her body go numb. “And my shoes,” she’s whining, only because Eleanor allows it because she understands. “They’re gorgeous, aren’t they? But they hurt like a bitch.”

“Could say the same for your heart.”

“Oy, shut it!” Veronica whacks Marcel’s shoulder, and while he laughs, the sleeve covering Niall’s shoulder muffles it. Eleanor’s eyes go a bit wide. It’s funny, but Veronica knows she’ll have to spill. “What’s going on now? You have to tell me. You tell me everything; please don’t say you were going to keep it to yourself because that’s really not fair.”

Veronica tsks and is just about to open her mouth when the apartment door bursts open, revealing Harry in all his glory.

...who eventually loses his balance and nearly face plants straight onto the floor. “Hi,” he says slowly. Everyone’s attention is on him now, waiting to see what he’s going to do next. Harry ends up staying on the floor though, trying his best to kick the front door closed until Veronica takes it upon herself to remove her shoes and quickly get up.

“Leave him, V. C’mon. One of these days he’s going to learn that he can’t just rely on everyone else to take care of him when he’s like this.”

Marcel says it, and he doesn’t sound concerned. He is though. Veronica knows that when it comes to the twins, they worry about one another. However, what Marcel lacks in sociability, Harry all but makes up for it. He’s a bit of an attention seeker, likes the way that people gossip about him, and most certainly enjoys the way that he can land any bird in town. Harry doesn’t date; he just has sex, and maybe that’s got something to do with the drinking and the bar he works at, but that’s how it is. He’s not a burden except for times like this when he goes out of his way and comes home drunk. Veronica knows him though, knows he’s not a bad person and is safe and treats every lady he sleeps with as if they’re queens; it’s just the habit and routine is tiresome. Sometimes she wonders what he’s looking for until Marcel butts in and decides to do the responsible thing and clean him up.

“Harry, let’s go, love.” She reaches out a hand, and he grabs it, has to make several attempts to do so.

Veronica’s got enough strength in her to get him up. It takes a bit of persuasion and some struggle, but she leaves the people on the couch where they are and makes sure Harry makes it to his room just fine. He’s a bit grimy, sweaty from the alcohol, but he looks fine nonetheless. Just drunk and dazed. “You know,” he slurs, “if you’d just have me, I wouldn’t have to deal with a broken heart.”

She helps him undress down to his boxers before helping him into bed. There’s already a trashcan next to the nightstand, though she figures she might have to go get him some water in a moment; hopefully they'll be fine for now. “You say that, but I’ve got a feeling I’d only be another number.”

“I don’t mean it, Z-” His eyes widen like he’s done something wrong, reaches out for Veronica. “Sorry. Sorry, shit. I almost-”

Licking her lips, she smiles softly. “S’okay, you know I don’t mind.”

“I fuck it up, don’t I? You can be mad. It’s okay.”

But she shakes her head. “Babe, I think you just need to be alone for awhile. Going through all these girls isn’t helping you any.”

Harry sighs. “But I kind of like it. ‘m not attached to anyone or anything. They can’t hold me back.”

Drunk mumbles. She’s heard this conversation before, and by the time the sun had risen in the morning, he’d forgotten it all. “You know I don’t like you saying that. Being with someone doesn’t mean they’re going to stop you from doing what you want, only push you forward into making you happy.”

“So simple, but it’s not.” His eyes are closing slowly but surely, so Veronica decides to leave well enough alone. She ends up in the living room again for another hour or so before heading to bed, the various comments from the people around her helping lift her mood from Harry’s words. They don’t haunt her, but he’s always had a way of making her wake up to reality. She lives within the stars, and he’s always been the one on the ground. As much as she’s a friend to Marcel, her relationship with Harry is different, complicated.

Sometimes she wishes it’d been so simple though, end up with Harry because he accepts her the way she is, fulfill the promise they made to each other back when they were teens that if nothing worked out for them in terms of relationships, then they’d end up together.

Veronica’s purposefully delaying it, and she knows Harry’s suffering from it. It’s not that she’s picky, or that Harry’s not a decent man to be with because he is. He may act like a fool and sleep with whomever he wants, but he’s always taken care of her, and for that, she’ll always be grateful.

Thing is, Harry has a problem with settling, and Veronica knows that if she were to give in and be content, she’d be doing just that, the same that Harry’s always done. But she doesn’t want that, doesn’t want to give up her future and wonder what could’ve been.

It’s unfair and selfish, especially for Harry (or maybe it’s just really, really stupid to be in constant limbo when it comes to keeping a years-old promise), but something nags at Veronica, and she can’t give in just yet. Not yet. Not now. Maybe one of these days she’ll know why.

+

Work. She has to go. It’s frustrating and boring, yet exciting and tolerable. And really, there’s no reason she should complain because she chooses to stay. Being a secretary isn’t all that great. Not only is it fielding calls, but it’s running errands with little appreciation from everyone else in the office. She doesn’t even know everyone by name. She’s got a little book that tells her which numbers to patch people through to whenever they request a certain employee.

Which is why when the elevator opens, and Veronica makes her way over to her desk, she’s surprised to find Leeroy waiting for her with a cup of coffee. “I could probably kiss you right now.” Dramatic is her specialty, especially in the mornings.

“No, thank you,” he replies.

Veronica smirks because she knows he’s asexual, having been particularly open with her after her own confession so long ago. The least he could do is humor her, though. “Okay, then. What’s the occasion?”

There’s a bit of a buzz under his fingertips, almost like he has to restrain himself from moving. Leeroy’s a pretty important figure, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t suffer from a bit of ADD. “Apparently the boss stayed the night, and those of us that are here have elected you to go wake him up.”

While Veronica has been busy putting her stuff down, Leeroy had taken it upon himself to be polite by help her out of her jacket. And obviously now that the real task at hand has been revealed, he’s taken a step back as if she might actually strike him.

Of course, Veronica doesn’t, but she does arch a brow, no amusement on her face whatsoever. “You mean Liam slept here last night?” It’s not the first time it’s happened either. She’s had to force him just to go home and take a break, but mostly that had to do with annoying girlfriends rather than work, surprisingly. As far as Veronica knew, everything was perfectly fine unless something happened after she left the office yesterday.

She sighs, though. It’s not that big of a deal. Liam’s definitely not like Veronica in the morning, cranky with a side of bitch. He’s quite adorable, and Veronica always feels cautious so that her own sour mood doesn’t disturb Liam’s. “Fine, but you go tell Marcel that I expect lunch since the lot of you could’ve done this before I even got here.” She points a finger at him, but Leeroy nods rapidly.

“Sure thing.”

And then he’s off, darting down the halls to the back of the building where all the cubicles and various other offices are.

Veronica’s left to roll her eyes and look down at her desk, remembering her coffee, and while she’d very much like to bring it to her lips and take a sip, she can’t find it in herself to do so. Instead, she picks it up and makes her way over to the door of Liam’s office. She knocks - the reminder always firm in her head now - and when there’s no answer, she decides to go in quietly.

Sure enough, Veronica finds Liam asleep. He’s on the couch with a bunch of papers sprawled out on the coffee table, the floor, and even on Liam himself. It’s a natural response for her to shake her head and smile, but she carefully makes her way over to him, setting down the coffee to pluck several pages off his body, placing them in a neat pile before she wakes him up.

“Mr. Payne,” she whispers, hoping the sound of her voice will be enough to get him up.

It doesn’t, so Veronica tries again by placing her hand on his shoulder to gently shake him awake. “Liam,” she tries again.

And that does it. He startles, Veronica taking a step back as her boss nearly falls off the couch.

“Sorry!” She bites her lip, bending down to place her hand on his shoulder again while Liam regains his senses. “I’m beginning to think that I probably should’ve just left you to it.”

“What?” Voice groggy while simultaneously blinking haphazardly, Liam eventually rights himself, takes a good look around and groans. “Shit.”

“Uhm,” is all Veronica responds with because that’s all she can say, really.

Liam stands up, though, stretches out, and Veronica decides to busy herself by retrieving all the other papers scattered on the floor. It’s a way to ignore the looming silence without anything feeling awkward.

“I must’ve fallen asleep reading.”

“Guess so.”

When Veronica straightens herself out, stack of papers now in her hands, she finds that a good majority of them are from the report she’d pulled up for Liam just yesterday. Some of them have blue ink on them, little notes he’s apparently written, while others consists of doodles, mainly stick figures. It’s endearing, but Veronica checks herself and sets them down before it becomes obvious that she’s staring at something that she shouldn’t be.

“Thank you,” Liam responds kindly, sleepiness still evident on his face and in his voice. His smile is soft though, heartwarming and welcome, so Veronica can’t help it when she finds herself doing the same in return.

“You know,” she starts, and while she should scold herself on her thought process, seeing as it may be out of line for her to suggest it, she goes ahead with it anyway, “maybe you should go home, get some rest. Like, take the day off, maybe?”

Liam waits until she’s finished to shake his head, scratching at the back of his neck. “Can’t do that. Too much work.”

“L-” She bites down on her tongue so hard, it’s possible she might taste blood in mere seconds. “Mr. Payne,” she corrects, “I realize you’re busy, and I’m sure there’s plenty to do, but it’s evident that you’re quite tired, and I’m sure business can wait a couple of hours, at least until you get some rest, relax.”

Her boss opens his mouth, but Veronica holds up a finger instead, suddenly remembering something, an incentive. “I brought you coffee!” She ducks down quickly to pick up the cup. Thank god it’s still warm before she hands it over. Veronica’s then met with another smile, but that doesn’t really stop her internal mourning for her own bit of coffee. She’ll have to resort to the break room coffee that tastes atrocious.

“You didn’t have to,” Liam adds.

And maybe Veronica should let him know that technically speaking, she didn’t. But then when she thinks about the rest of the employees and how they deployed her to come wake Liam up, she decides against it so she can let herself revel in his words.

“It was no problem.” And well, she knows that even if she had been the one to go out and get coffee, she would’ve expressed the same sentiment. It would’ve most likely been an inconvenience, but definitely, definitely worth it.

“Progress,” Liam interjects. The coffee finds its place back on the table with Liam picking up a few papers and scanning them. “Stayed up to get a head start, and I figured I’m going to have to switch my entire schedule around for this.” His fingers run through his unkempt hair, with a sigh pushed out from behind frowning lips. “This is a nightmare, if I’m honest.”

Veronica takes initiative though, reaching for the papers in his hand so that she can put them back in place. “Mr. Payne,” she says. “Take a breath, please, yeah? You’ve worked on stuff way more difficult than this, and I’ve no doubt you’ll be able to pull it off again. It’s weeks away, and I don’t like you staying here like you do sometimes.”

A playful grin works its way across Liam’s face, quickly erasing any and all traces of sleep. “Is that so?” One of his thick eyebrows follows next, arching with a small amount of an accusation resting in his eyes. “You really care about whether or not I sleep in my bed?”

Besides the way that her throat feels like cotton and clogged, Veronica’s teeth find her lower lip, a nervous habit while her thoughts dart across her mind in search of a proper answer. Surely something along the lines of _yes, as long as I’m in it too_ would not be an appropriate answer. “Y-yeah,” she stutters, having to find her ground and mentally shake off her negligible feelings. “You’re my boss,” Veronica proceeds, “and if you end up with a crick in your neck, that’s going to be hell for me because I know what you’re like when you’re moody.” She tilts her head forward so her eyes peek out just above her glasses, eyebrows rising in a gesture that dares Liam to argue with her. It’s all in mock-seriousness though, an effort to turn around a potential revealing conversation. So, she clicks her tongue and makes her way over to Liam’s desk, reaching for his briefcase and then the suit jacket that hangs on the coat rack. “You take these, and I’m kicking you out. Go on.”

Liam looks over at her, finds that she’s holding out his items for him to take. “You really want me to leave?” He frowns, confusion settling over his demeanor as if he can’t possibly fathom as to why someone wants him to exit.

Veronica knows he’s thinking too hard, a clear sign that his mind as been overworked. “Don’t say it like that,” she chides. “I’ve worked for you for this long, haven’t I?” Since Liam hasn’t bothered to move, Veronica relaxes her shoulders and brings him his things. “I’m only surprised they haven’t made you take a vacation yet.”

The boss snorts but takes his stuff nonetheless.

“Right. Yeah. Stupid comment.” She waves a hand in the air to brush it off, but Liam doesn’t notice as he shuffles into his jacket. The briefcase ends up back on the floor until both arms are securely wrapped up in long sleeves; his shoulders (and pretty much every inch of his upper body) are accentuated. It’s not fair. It’s really not, and Veronica blinks just so she can refocus. Damnit, if Marcel could only see her now, she’d be laughed at for her idiocy.

“I swear,” Liam smoothes out the labels of the suit, brushing his hands over the fine material that probably costs way more than anything Veronica actually owns. “You’re too good to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And well, okay. That’s a nice thing to say. It’s really, really nice, and sweet. But. Yeah. Veronica can’t help but wish for Liam to take back what he’s said. It’s. Yeah; it’s a kind thought, something people say in appreciation, obviously, but Veronica knows that Liam’s very much capable. He helps run a company, a very popular and profitable one at that. Without her help, no less. She’s also pretty sure she’s exhausted her stay, but she figures it’d be difficult to leave anyway because of her attachment. Not just to Liam, but she’s loyal, and Marcel’s here, too. There’s no way she could deny that the pay is good as well; although, sometimes she wonders about moving on. Certainly it’d be a difficult, new atmosphere, and she’d end up the new girl having to find her place once again- she breathes in, stops herself from taking those thoughts further. They're ridiculous to be honest.

If Veronica really wanted to leave, she knows she would’ve done it a long time ago, and if she truly helped Liam out with anything important, then maybe she wouldn’t be here feeling stuck like the lowly assistant she is.

“I guess I’m all set then,” Liam mumbles, picking up his case. “You going to let me come back tomorrow?”

Veronica ponders the idea while she begins to head out of Liam’s office. “Depends,” she calls back, hearing the sounds of quick feet following her. “You come in looking dead on your feet, I’m sending you right back into the elevator.”

They’re in the lobby now, near Veronica’s desk when Liam ducks his head shyly. “I can’t believe my secretary is kicking me out of my own office.”

“You’ll thank me later.” She nods, her heels clacking against the tile as she reaches the elevator. She brings an arm forward, fingers reaching out to press one of the buttons until it lights up, and the door dings open. “Just go home and relax for once. I’ll take care of things today. Don’t worry.”

She sidesteps out of the way so Liam can get into the lift, where he quickly turns around to press the appropriate button for the ground floor. There’s also relief etched onto his face, directed at Veronica with what looks like a faint blush dotting his cheeks. “I’ve no doubt. Thank you.”

The door closes soon after that, before Veronica can tell him that it really, truly isn’t a problem. Although, she’s sure he knows that already. His trust in her is proof enough.

+

There are always good and bad days. Always. They’re unavoidable and no matter how much people wish for the good to last; it very rarely, if ever, does.

Yet, this one, this day, definitely takes the cake.

First it’d been Harry, the fucking dumbass who’d decided to come home drunk again. Veronica, despite the sleepy protests from Marcel who’s always adamant on his brother fending for himself, helped Harry into bed again with a tight smile, and a scold.

Afterwards, she’d found solace in her bed until she was woken up by Marcel shaking her awake, informing her that she must’ve slept through her alarm. Curses fell out of her mouth then because there wasn’t much time to get dressed and make into work without being at least ten minutes late.

On top of that, she’s pretty sure she almost had an accident with the car (some dumbass nearly slamming into her from behind) and then, as soon as she parked and started for the office building, her shoe nearly gave out because she stepped on it the wrong way. Thankfully the heel didn’t break, but that didn’t mean it didn’t give her quite the scare in that brief moment of limbo, her balance trying to figure out whether or not it’d cooperate and stay upright, or give in to gravity for other’s amusement.

And now. Well. _This_ makes her morning look like a relative walk in the park.

Sometimes it’s difficult for understand people. It really is, and Veronica has first hand experience with that because even if she’s familiar with her own set of friends, it doesn’t lessen her questions on whether or not they’re a bunch of fun-loving idiots. It’s hard to understand them, but at least there is humor attached. It’s easy and weird, and most certainly isn’t harmful.

She stares. That’s all she can find herself doing at this point. Her purse is thrown haphazardly onto the desk, but her jacket remains on her body. Veronica hasn’t even had a chance to sit down and relax yet because that fucking thing is staring right back at her.

And what’s worse is the fact that she can see her reflection just beyond that, a not-so-helpful mirror placed there unintentional, the wrong place at the wrong time kind of thing.

“Veronica?”

She starts, snatches the note off of her computer screen and shoves it into her pocket before she finds Marcel standing near the corner of her desk. “Hi.”

“Thought I heard something up here,” he smiles softly. “Just wanted to make sure you got in okay.”

If there’s anything she’s grateful for at this very moment, it’s the fact that Marcel can’t read her mood all too well - or it could very well be that her glasses are convenient barriers, shielding the way they might be a little too shiny for this time of the day. “I did. Thank you, Mar.”

There’s not much else to say, and Veronica wants him to leave, urges him to do so in her head. But he doesn’t leave; in fact, if anything, Marcel looks a little on edge now. “Something the matter?”

He can’t meet her eyes, and when he does, it’s a look that rarely ever shows on his face. It’s not that Marcel is unkind, but he’s too focused on what’s _right_ rather than making sure he feels anything other than good. It sounds selfish, but in his mind, if Marcel can be perfect, clean, and all around the guy to rely on, it means there’s no disappointment and no reason to have such startling emotions like the one that he’s currently expressing.

It’s something like guilt. It probably is guilt, but it’s masked by nerves and a plethora of other things.

“Well,” he drawls, but it doesn’t have the desired effect that someone might want when they’re trying to transition into a new topic of conversation. “I won’t say right now, but Leeroy might come find you later, yeah?”

Veronica can do and be nothing but skeptical with that, but her mind is honestly elsewhere, and she has no time for chit-chat like this, especially if Marcel’s not willing to speak up about whatever’s going on. It may not even be that important, and at this very moment, to Veronica, at least, it’s not. Nothing will ever be as important as what’s written on that little sticky note, the one she found taped to her computer screen, the first thing she noticed when she moved to sit down behind her computer and power the damn thing up.

Her hand curls around the paper in her pocket. It’s too subtle of a movement for her company to notice, but she knows it’s there, and it’s almost as if it burns her hand. Her palm is blazing hot, aches because it’s so close to something so incredibly daft. But it’s real; it was written, and it’s hers alone to deal with at the moment. Not some petty, half-assed conversation with Marcel.

Her teeth find her lip. She’s rude, obviously, for being so blatantly mean with her thoughts, but she needs a moment.

“Okay,” she nods. “Just tell him to find me whenever.”

Marcel takes that as his cue to leave, fortunately enough, and while she’s mildly happy about it, her attention is drawn elsewhere. Instead of pulling her hand out of her pocket, Veronica goes to the only place she knows she’ll have a bit of privacy.

The bathroom.

It’s not ideal, but there’s a lock on the door and not many people use this one because it’s situated towards the front of the office, away from the cubicles. There’s another one in the back for everyone else, but for now, this one’s hers, and once she gets to her desired location, she asks if anyone is in (just to be sure) before she locks it.

The first thing Veronica does is remove the note from her pocket. At this point, it’s crumpled up, and as right as it would be to find a stall to flush it down the toilet, her hand shakes just the slightest bit.

She can’t find it in herself to open it up just yet.

What Veronica decides to do, rather than the smart thing that little voice in the back of her mind is telling her she ought to, is walk straight to the mirror, smoothing out the wad of paper before sticking it on the glass.

The black ink still exists. It’s there, and there’s not a damn thing she can do about it but let herself go in terms of self-loathing and internal thoughts full of hatred and disgust. There’s currently a ball of emotions settled in her throat, trapped and fighting to let out a sob.

Because all it is is a label. A stupid fucking label; they’ve always been the rage. It goes on and on, and it’s always crippling. The things, the words that are used that can be so detrimental, that technically hold no meaning but do because there’s a tone, and a look, and downright _hate_.

And it doesn’t make sense. It truly doesn’t because there was no surgery, no feelings of being in the wrong body. Yet people still didn’t understand it, still don’t. Of course, there wasn’t a name for it then, not when she was younger and trying to cope with such a mentality that didn’t fit social norms, let alone the fact of being different already, growing up in a neighborhood where things like money and color further solidified the hierarchy that was built upon decades of superiority and abuse.

In the end, though, Veronica knew that moving forward with what she felt was right, would automatically subject herself to public scrutiny. Nonetheless, there was a sense of pride and more resolve to be found in something that felt good, that felt okay, that felt like _safety_. And because she cared about herself more so than the people who chose to eye her with distrust, Veronica also recognized the ultimate lie if she hadn’t of done so in the first place. It became obvious fairly quickly that while she did care, she just didn’t feel it _enough_ in regards to what others thought about her and figured that doing what was best for her wellbeing meant more than placating someone who felt uncomfortable with her decision for selfish, ignorant reasons.

So, the way Veronica sees it now, she _is_ Zayn - her other half; her male counterpart. She’s still him underneath everything, despite her overall appearance that society deems is _female_. Veronica will always be him, but she’s _both_. Him, her. In between. It fits, and it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else because as long as the people she cares for love her enough to support her, then that’s all that truly matters. It’s difficult not to give to in prying eyes and curious looks, but she knows for a fact that she is no longer confused or lost, but happy and accepted, and when something threatens that, it’s when her worry kicks in.

Which is why Veronica’s lower lip quivers, knowing she should’ve seen this coming from a mile away. This job had always seemed too good to be true, and she wonders why it took this long for someone to figure it out, that while she identified with both genders, both male and female, the world still likes to fit those statuses into separate boxes: boys and blue; girls and pink. Toys and trucks. Girls and Barbie’s. Skirts and pants. Makeup. Hair. Fights. Sports. Jobs.

The lot of it. Defined. Analyzed. It’s there, a constant thrumming of two sides that never really meet in the middle.

Except Veronica, in her own way, does. She tries because it’s the only way she feels normal.

But things like this, they’re here to remind her that maybe she isn’t; maybe, maybe, _maybe_ she’s exactly what they say she is, and she’s just playing herself a fool.

_Tranny._

It’s written there on that little square piece of paper, stuck to the mirror in the women’s bathroom where Veronica stands alone, body swamped in a jacket too big for her. She’s got heels on today, opted for some nice slacks and a normal, everyday work blouse. Her hair is twisted into loose curls, the glasses she wears more often than contacts because they’re easier to deal with, rest upon the bridge of her nose, and the only thing she sees at this moment is the reality of her reflection corresponding with someone’s handwritten message on the fact that they _know_.

They know what Veronica is (think they do, at least) and have lessened her to nothing more than a _thing_ , a word, a name that holds no place in her heart because it shouldn’t be true. It isn’t. But it is, isn’t it? It’s not.

And which is correct?

The note, the word, the writing, it’s as clear as day, no smudges on the page to indicate that maybe this person - whomever wrote it - was determined to spell something else out other than a slur meant to damage.

At this point, Veronica doesn’t know what to do with herself. She’s faced things like this before but never really on her own. She’s taken pride in being able to pass as female because it’s typically not normal in a workplace to try and express more than one gender, but this leaves her feeling empty and wanting to go home. Harry would probably be a little hungover at this point, but Veronica’s sure Eleanor wouldn’t mind her company.

A phone call might be the next best thing, but Veronica can’t. There have been worse things done, and this is only one note. There isn’t any evidence that points to any specific figures, and it’ll just be another something to push to the back of her mind so she will eventually, hopefully forget about it.

Despite the unshed tears in her eyes, Veronica reaches for the slip of paper, avoiding her reflection in the mirror before wadding it up into a ball. She finds a stall, throws the slip of paper into the toilet and lets it flush away with the water, watching as the yellow sticky note swirls around before it eventually disappears. Maybe it’ll whither away, dissolve.

However, Veronica knows that even if that is the case, it doesn’t change what was written, not after her own eyes had seen it, and it appears in her mind like a mantra.

The only thing really left for her to do is to distract herself. Find an outlet, and let loose.

Obviously, she knows of one, but she thinks it might be a little hypocritical when she decides to throw herself into work, especially after she’d scolded her boss just yesterday for the same exact reason.

It helps, but it doesn’t stop the small tremor in her hands, or the unsteadiness in her voice when it’s time to answer the phone. It turns out her job isn’t too much of a pastime, but it’s the only thing she’s got to work with for now. Until she can make it home, that is.

+

What’s irritating and alarming is the fact that Veronica is now on edge. See, with one little action taken by someone else, it’s set her off and made her tense. She’d expected something else to happen, more slips of paper, maybe the culprit to surface and corner her. But none of that develops. The day after, Liam’s back in his office, and everything else is normal.

Except when it’s not.

Several days later, another little note pops up, and it’s no better than the first. She could tell, let someone know, talk to Harry, Marcel, hell, even Eleanor, about what’s going on at work. Although, what would she say? There’s literally no indication of who might be doing this, and therefore it means Veronica has no solid proof to take to HR.

And if this wasn't enough, it’s only the tip of the iceberg. However big it is, Veronica doesn’t know, but she recognizes the moment that someone lets their lips loose because things slowly but surely change. Not only are there derogatory words, eyes begin to take notice of Veronica in a way she’s never experienced before. Each floor of the building is quite large. She can’t remember off the top of her head how many stories the framework actually holds, but it’s not some simple little office that sits on the sidelines of a busy intersection. No, they’re in the big leagues, which means the floor is cramped with cubicles, where security is tight, ids are needed to get into the building, and that by the time Veronica finds her place at her desk, people are beginning to pour into the office, exiting the elevators and making their way to their little homes for the next eight hours of their day.

There’s eye contact, smiles, and waves, some nodding, small assertions, generally what people do just to be polite. Yet it stops. Not altogether, but a lot of it does because while Veronica keeps a smile on her face at the beginning of the day, no matter how much she’d rather scowl and wish she was back in her bed, she notices the way that some of those people can’t even meet her gaze, can’t be bothered to acknowledge her, nor give her the time of day. She’s not even confused to think that any of them were ever her friends, but common courtesy is a real thing that Veronica likes to keep alive, and it’s difficult maintaining that when her heart drops down into her stomach every time she notices the way that nearly every other person chooses to ignore her.

The next best option for Veronica is to fake it and put up with it anyway. This could just be her mind messing with her, playing tricks to the point where she’s just seeing things, being overly paranoid about something that’s not even taking place. So, she gives them all the benefit of the doubt until it happens again and again.

After that, there’s no more lying. It's not a coincidence either, and there’s no way she can avoid the way that some go silent when she gets near. The break room is the worse, and Veronica’s learned to avoid it until she knows that no one is there; she’s not stupid enough to think that the reason people hush up when she meanders in there for her lunch or for a cup of coffee, is because they’re trying to keep their own personal business to themselves.

Veronica can handle people not liking her, if that’s the case. Although, the reason behind it makes her skin prickle with goose bumps and anxiety. She waits for the moment that someone will just come out and say it, but nothing ever progresses until she’s alone one afternoon, waiting for the coffee machine to play nice and fill her cup up with whatever kind of bizarre mix someone’s decide to use today.

Someone walks into the room. Bear in mind, she’s always been polite with everyone, but she grimaces now, shoulders tensing in a way she’s never had to do at work before.

Whomever it is, they’re silent. Shuffling around the room, opening the fridge and playing busy, and Veronica honestly doesn’t know why she feels bothered. She just does. Her thoughts roll around, a steady pace of _leave, leave, leave_ consuming her entire being.

And then it stops, as if they’ve walked out of the room, and Veronica’s left alone. So just when she thinks she can breathe easy and that the coffee is most certainly not happening, she turns on her heel only to find a vaguely older gentleman sitting at a table. The break room is rather large, big enough to accommodate at least a third of the office. They’ve all had to learn to take turns so that no one felt like squished sardines. But even then, that doesn’t stop the sickening claustrophobic feeling from clawing at Veronica’s chest, like the walls might cave in at any moment, and she’ll be squeezed to death.

She forgoes the mug. It’s not important, and she’s already decided she can live without the coffee. So, she ducks her head, puts on a soft smile so it doesn’t look like she’s thinking terrible thoughts about a lonesome stranger she’s probably only seen in the office a handful of times. And it’s when she gets to the door, that her breath leaves her, a sigh and the rush of relief, all mixed into one.

But it was too soon. Way too soon for her to feel freedom when there’s a clearing of the throat and a slick voice that pierces her ear.

“Probably should’ve guessed already. Had this whole office fooled.”

Veronica pauses in the doorway despite everything within her telling her to leave. She can’t do it though, her hand finding the necklace around her throat, toying with the chain as she listens on.

“‘though some of us have been wondering why. Is it easier fooling men so they’ll fuck you?”

She turns on her heel, eyes narrowed. “Did you leave that note?” Her voice is low, probably too much, giving herself away. But she needs to know, part of her does because this isn’t funny. She shouldn’t be made to feel like this.

“Honey,” there’s too much of a condescending tone for Veronica to be comfortable with, and she’s almost in the mood to bare her teeth and let loose, “I don’t need a note to tell you what I think of you. I’ll say it to your face with no remorse for a little fag who’s gotta deceive people for their own gain.”

“And what gain would that be?” She’s pushing it, really. These kinds of conversations are the ones she’s had to walk away from before when she decided to hit the final nail into her coffin. Just because someone makes a choice for his or her own wellbeing, doesn’t give anyone else the authority to deem it wrong. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

There’s a grimace on his lips now, but Veronica knows there’s nothing to be won here. He’ll think so; he’ll think he’s scratched the surface and startled her deeply, and while it may be true, it doesn’t mean Veronica has to let him know what he’s done. “Trust me, I do.”

She’s scoffs. “Then I guess it’s a good thing that this _fag_ chooses not to associate with people like you. Makes both of our lives a little bit easier, doesn’t it?” And she’s gone; as quickly as she came, Veronica slips out of the room and leaves her final words hanging in the air. She knows she’s left no impact, nothing to have the man remain speechless, but now, at the very least, he’ll figure she won’t take anyone’s spit lying down. Those words may curl into her very core, bite away at her sanity and her esteem, but there’s no way she won’t go down without a fight, something to alleviate the cruelty so she’s left with some sense of pride intact.

By the time she gets back to the area of her desk, the office phone is ringing. She eyes it, but doesn’t bother sitting down and answering it like she knows she should. Veronica’s being played a fool, and if there’s anyone to know the inner workings of the office, it’d be Marcel. He’s in marketing, but he spends most of his time gathering information and collecting ideas in order to create beautiful presentations for potential partners, those who might willingly choose to be apart of the company.

She sucks down her worry with a quick roll of her shoulders, makes sure that her outfit is wrinkle free before she steps behind the thin wall of her desk towards the back of the building. Marcel doesn’t have a cubicle. He’s one of the lucky few that has a desk. It’s situated on the other side of the room, near the windows that overlooks the skyline. It’s both good and bad because anyone that walks around is subjected to eyes peeking over the dividers because it’s an office and people are nosy, but it also means that Veronica’s got to handle dealing with all of it on her own now.

Which wasn’t a problem before. She’s done this plenty of times, taking papers to particular people whenever important information would be faxed in. It’s not like she doesn’t know the placement of the floor like the back of her hand. But she’s never been particularly scared enough to walk back there and wonder what everyone’s thoughts were.

She goes for it though, with no remorse or hostility. She minds her own business, keeps her breathing short, and weaves her way seamlessly through the maze of office desks and curious eyes.

Marcel, she finds, is in a phone conversation. She slips into his office quietly, shuts the door behind her and waits until his attention is on her.

“Okay,” he nods, quickly jotting down something. “I’ll make sure to look into it; thank you.”

Veronica takes a seat, smoothes out the back of her skirt as she sits down. The chair’s not completely uncomfortable, but she can’t find it in herself to lean back, choosing to sit on the edge so she’s got more of an advantage to lean forward for whatever reason it might come in handy.

“Will do.” Marcel rolls his eyes, waves his hand in such a way that indicts the person on the other line is a talker. Veronica smiles though, has to hide her teeth behind her lips because she doesn’t want Marcel to get the impression that she’s laughing at him, a thing she typically does when they’re back at the flat because she finds anything he does downright hilarious. He’s nerdy in the best way possible, and it just so happens that Veronica finds it mildly amusing.

Eventually, Marcel is able to hang up. He huffs out a breath and shuffles his notepad full of writing away from him. The first thing he does is take off his glasses, using his shirt to scrub away at the lingering dust before placing them back onto his face. His hands then cross, arms resting on the desk so that he’s able to give Veronica his full attention. “What brings you by this lovely little office?”

She shrugs, wants to play it cool without any alarm in her voice. “Just, you know.”

And that’s the last response that anyone wants to hear because it’s not very reassuring, and Marcel knows it, too. Especially with the way that he draws back, taps his fingers against the desk until Veronica gives in and groans.

“I might be going crazy,” she says.

Marcel bites his lip, a small amount of laughter escaping. “Depending on who you ask, I don’t think they’d need any convincing.”

Veronica’s eyes widen before she leans forward to swat at Marcel playfully. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“You said it,” Marcel counters.

And Veronica narrows her eyes. “Doesn’t mean you had to agree.”

He pokes his tongue out of his mouth, a childish thing, but it keeps the mood light. “Again, I shall ask, what has brought the lovely secretary back to this to this neck of the woods?”

Anyone would agree that this is the defining moment, where secrets spill and everything is easily confessed, but apparently Veronica just likes to make things difficult because she finds that she can’t get a word out. It’s easier with small talk because anything at all could be up for grabs, could be the center of the conversation without it ever ending. But what’s on her mind is a different story; it’s serious in its own right, and she knows how Marcel worries, knows that the others at home worry for her well being too because it’s not that they don’t think she’s strong enough, she’s proved that time and time again, but they think she’s a bit too mentally fragile. Veronica will take so much, only for it to build up to the point where it all comes crashing down.

And she recognizes that in herself, knows it to be true as well, no matter how hard she’d like to believe that that’s not the case.

“I’d like to know if, uh.” She fiddles with her hair, wraps a loose curl around her finger without meeting Marcel’s gaze. “I wanted to know if you heard anything.”

“Like what?”

Veronica doesn't know if he’s feigning innocence. It’s hard to tell if he is given that there’s a plethora of new gossip that makes its rounds throughout the office on a weekly, if not daily, basis. But this is different, and she figures that if something bad were to have spread, especially with it being about her, Marcel would’ve been the first to tell her. So maybe he doesn’t have a clue, but Veronica also thinks she’s not completely seeing things and that something is going on. Hell, somebody knows something, otherwise she wouldn’t’ve had that awful conversation with that prick of an employee just ten minutes prior.

“About me,” she admits.

There’s stretch of silence, along with the flicker of something shadowing Marcel’s eyes. It’s all that’s needed for Veronica to understand that there is, indeed, something going on.

“I don’t know-” Marcel starts, but he never gets to finish because Veronica doesn’t let him.

She snaps, one of the few occasions that she loses her cool. “ _Marcel_ ,” comes out quick and sharp, neither of them prepared for amount of urgency that hides itself underneath her tongue. “Please, _please_ don’t lie to me now.” Her shoulders drop, and she nearly slumps back in her seat. There’s a heavy weight across her thin frame, settling there without a sign of letting go.

Marcel sits back in his seat, too. He looks concerned, and maybe he has every right to be, but it doesn’t make this any less agitating. “Leeroy hasn’t talked to you yet, has he?”

“No, I-” Veronica shakes her head. “It must’ve slipped my mind.”

There’s more silence, and it’s crippling because if Marcel has any clue and isn’t speaking up despite Veronica needing to hear it, then just how bad is it, and why is it that all of a sudden he feels the need to keep quiet? “How about I get him in here, hmm? I think I’d much rather you hear it from him than me.”

It’s dread, pure, unadulterated dread that runs throughout Veronica’s veins. She could protest and demand an answer, but she knows that that’s not going to get her anywhere else, so she waits. She waits for Marcel to pick up the phone and ask for Leeroy to show himself. He doesn’t explain anything, just asks for his assistance, and then he’s done. The line is cleared, and they play the waiting game.

It’s not long. Leeroy doesn’t really have his own office. It’s situated away from everyone else, his own little cubicle full of paperwork. Veronica often wonders why the importance of his job is placed behind Marcel’s, but the answer given to that question is typically something along the lines of the company wanting to have a lock on future ideas. They’d be kept safe in a room with a key instead of protected by a single desk.

“Marcel?” Leeroy pokes his head in through the door, and while Veronica turns back to eye him, he halts. “Oh.”

Veronica’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, briefly looking back at Marcel in order to gauge some kind of reaction other than the worrisome _oh_ Leeroy had given.

“Oh? Is that all you’ve got?” She doesn’t mean to come off as harsh, but it’s apparent that she does because Leeroy ducks his head and enters the room, closing the door behind him before taking a seat. He sits as far away from Veronica as he can, which typically isn’t so much of an issue with them. The boys, both here and at home, don’t have any personal space, but Leeroy being innately careful gives way to Veronica’s frown. “Someone better start talking.”

“It was an accident,” Leeroy rushes to say. His nose flares, tongue flicking out of his mouth to swipe at his lower lip. “I swear to god, Veronica. It was, and had I known, I would’ve done something about it.”

She blinks, fingers curling around the arm of the chair. “You better continue talking if you know what’s good for you.” But it’s not really a threat. It comes out as more of a choked sob than anything else because Veronica’s prepared for the worst. She knows it’s coming, and she might as well hang on tight.

“That new hire.” At this point, Marcel’s lips are thin, and Leeroy is staring at her. All Veronica can be glad for is the fact that at least he’s being a man about this. “He works in human resources now, and well, he’s got access to all the files.”

And immediately Veronica knows where this is going; she doesn’t need to hear this explanation, but Leeroy keeps going, and she does nothing to stop him.

“I didn’t know he was looking for something. I’m supposed to train him, and he didn’t even _ask_.”

“Enough,” she spits. “Just-” And her voice gives. She’s not in the mood to cry; at least not now. She won’t do it here, and she’s learned long ago to put feelings aside in order to save face. “How much did he read?”

“I thought you didn’t-”

“Just _tell_ me.” She grits her teeth, ignoring the need to stand up and leave.

“Enough; he read enough to ask who the, uh, who the-”

He can’t say it. He won’t say it, and that’s good on him, but Veronica wants to hear it, wants him to own up to his mistake for letting her personal documents fall into the wrong hands. He’s got access to employee profiles, and when she’d started here, it was confidential. The company couldn’t not hire her, and while Veronica suspects that the top-tier people know about her, they would’ve sought her out a long time ago if they truly had a problem. No one else aside from Leeroy and Marcel knows. Not even Liam, and she’s determined to keep it that way. However, just the other day proved otherwise, that this might slip and travel because it’s already done so. At least half the office knows by now, and this could not only be damaging to her reputation, but things could escalate. She’s already become a mockery to at least two people, and with the staring, she’s sure that things might get worse than they already are.

Veronica can handle little notes. She can take people whispering and staring at her for so long, but one thing she knows she wouldn’t be able to handle is any sort of major confrontation or violence. It’s happened before, and she’s not naive enough to believe that it won’t happen again. Even if this is a work place, that’s never stopped people from acting on their true nature before.

For now, she won’t think about her safety because it might be a little too soon for that, or well, a little extreme in thought. It’s not best to think that things are going to get overly bad. They shouldn’t, but she’ll have to do her best to be on guard.

“ _Tranny_ , Leeroy. Just fucking say it. He asked about the _it_ -”

“Veronica-” Marcel cuts in, but it doesn’t have the desired effect he was hoping for because his friend continues.

“The _shemale_ -”

“Stop it.”

And she does. Veronica draws back abruptly, like a rubber band snapping back into place. The only thing she can focus on now is the floor, hand still gripping the chair so tightly, and she breathes, heavy and dangerously close to what she feels might be a panic attack. Her chest is so tight, and she no doubt looks like she’s having a meltdown, but then there’s a hand on her arm and a soft _hey_ before her attention is given over to Marcel. He’s leaning down next to her chair, and it’s difficult for her not to feel like a small child.

Her lower lip, well, she does her best to keep it from quivering, but as each second ticks by, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep herself in line. “Mar,” she shakes her head, reaching out for his hand. “I can’t do this; not again.”

Marcel looks slightly reluctant to answer because he doesn’t know what the future holds, and Veronica would rather not be humored on this matter. This is much more than petty little office drama. It’s a very direct threat to Veronica herself and her wellbeing, and that’s not okay. “Nothing’s going to happen, and if it does, we’ll take the appropriate actions, V.” He squeezes her hand in reassurance. “You’re not gonna be alone, and if people want to be an utter dick about it, then they’ll get what they deserve. It’s all gonna be okay; you’ll see.”

And she believes him. For the moment, she believes him because she’s got nothing left to lose at this point except her dignity, and she knows that they won’t let her go down in flames.

Leeroy’s quick to chime in, giving his own set of promises, and she’s not strictly mad at him. She should be, but accidents happen, and if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s the guy, the one responsible for the letter and going through shit he shouldn’t’ve had his hands on. There’s not a doubt in Veronica’s mind that it was him, though; she won’t seek him out, won’t try to talk to him either because that’s purposefully searching for something she shouldn’t, but she’ll know, and she’ll use that consciousness to her advantage if she needs to.

“Okay,” she gives in return. She licks the front of her teeth, nods at Marcel, gives him enough room to stand up before she does the same. “It’s fine. I’ll be okay.” And all she wants is a moment of rest, some peace, maybe, too. “Is it-” she pauses afraid to ask until Marcel nudges her. “Can I- I’m going to leave for the rest of the day. Uh-”

“Go ahead,” Leeroy answers. He stands from his seat too, wrings his hands together. “It’ll be okay.”

“You’re sure? The phones-”

“Will be handled,” Marcel finishes. “I’ll handle Liam if he asks.”

Veronica says no more, just gives them both grateful smiles before making her way to the door. She’s got her hand on the handle before she turns, letting one last thought pass her lips. “I’m not upset at you,” she states. “Like, I’m angry at the situation, but I’m not pissed at you.” She waits until Leeroy looks at her before leaving, waits until he understand that she doesn’t blame him. She could though; she could be unfair and use this as an excuse to vent her frustrations, but Veronica’s pretty sure that Leeroy’s already feeling like shit. It’s probably why he’d avoided the conversation until this moment.

“I’ll see you later, V,” he answers.

It’s not what she’s looking for, but Veronica knows the conversation is over with, that she won’t be getting anything else out of these two.

So, she leaves them, opens the door to the office, squares her shoulders, and heads back to her desk to gather her things. She’ll be home alone, save for Niall who might actually be sleeping in. But he won’t bother her, and she’ll have time to settle in and relax by trying not to think about the endless possibilities of how she could potentially be ridiculed.

++

_He’s twenty-one when he dates a boy for the first time since he wanted to change his name to something more feminine, Veronica. He would’ve kept Zayn, the name not at all a burden to him. He’d done it out of practicality, though, because he chose to associate himself with the likings and grace of a woman when science and birth said otherwise._

_Even then, he felt like those labels were inadequate sometimes._

_“There’s a gender spectrum,” he explains to Harry at some point. “Like sexuality. Sometimes it’s nonexistent, too. It’s fluid and never really stays in the same range.”_

_Harry’s more or less confused, but after he does a bit of research, he comes back with a better understanding for the way his best friend thinks and feels._

_Zayn and Harry are both proud. They’re learning together._

_But the boy, his name is Reed, and he’s nearly two years older than Zayn. Which is fine. They click, but it doesn’t last as long as Zayn would’ve liked because at some point, the night comes for the big reveal, the moment where Zayn has to be honest, come clean and hope that even if Reed expected a designated female at birth, he’d still like him, at least._

_However, Zayn makes the mistake of giving out his name in order for Reed to understand, and from across the table at a very public restaurant, under the harsh, dim light, the sneer is very, very clear._

_“So, you lied?” he asks. “I’ve been dating a chick with a dick?”_

_And it’s very much a slap in the face; although, when Zayn looks back at that moment, he realizes just how awful it’d really been, how he’d blamed himself for lying, for buying into the fact that what made him happy was nothing more than playing dress up to others, a ruse to confuse men into having sex with him because otherwise, Zayn wouldn’t’ve gotten any offers if he simply looked like a man and claimed he was gay._

_“I wouldn’t put it that way-”_

_“Freak,” Reed had said after interrupting Zayn. “That’s what you are and what you’ll always be if you continue like this.”_

_The only decent thing about that night had been the fact that even though Reed had left, he still footed the bill. Zayn had figured that was an apology enough._

++

If there’s one person in the world who’s able to call her out on her bullshit, it’d be Eleanor. Veronica doesn’t play games, tries not to. She hasn’t got the time, but when there’s something bothering her, it’s the one thing she’ll buckle down on and pretend like nothing’s wrong.

And that’s where her best friend comes in, hardheaded and strong, resilient in every way possible. She reads Veronica like a book, and she also has a tendency to pry out information in order to fuel what she calls her boring life.

“You’ve been quiet this entire time, and even I’m getting annoyed with the sound of my own voice.”

Veronica tries not to grin, but it happens anyway. “A lot on my mind,” she answers.

“And that’s the whole point of our little outings,” Eleanor reminds her. “You’re supposed to talk to me, tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

“I feel like,” and there’s a pause, words escaping Veronica at the moment until her friend nudges her, “something’s going to happen. I don’t know what it is, and I can’t pinpoint it, but-”

“It’s there,” Eleanor finishes. “It’s an ominous feeling you can’t shake.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, opts to take a sip of whatever blend of tea Eleanor ordered for her today. “Yeah.”

“But that’s not all, is it?”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Veronica wiggles her foot, shaking out the nerves. “Sometimes I wonder if you can read minds, jeez.”

Eleanor only provides her with a shrug, the look on her face enough for Veronica to know that whether or not she says something in response, won’t matter. She’ll sit here in this little cafe for as long as possible until whatever Veronica is hiding is revealed.

“Fine, okay.” Pushing the cup in front of her towards the middle of the table, Veronica leans forward, crossing her arms in front of her so she’s leaning in and focused. “You can’t get upset, alright?”

If Eleanor wasn’t interested before, she certainly is now. She sips at her drink, but pulls up her chair so she can better hear her friend over the chatter of other people around them. “If I promise, will you tell me now?”

Impatient, she is.

Veronica doesn’t bother beating around the bush. There’s really no point now, so she sighs. “Stuff's been going on at the office. Like, people know.”

“Know what?”

She purses her lip, raises an eyebrow as if this should be obvious. Eleanor still shows no sign of knowing what the hell is going on though, and part of it is understandable. Veronica has been herself for a good five years, both El and Harry having helped her through the turmoil. Veronica is _normal_. Things concerning her and others like her are normal, and it only makes sense that Eleanor wouldn’t think of her issue as a first resort for any kind of trouble. It’s been awhile, been a few good years since Veronica has had any kind of real issues, and most of that was left back in grade school. Adults just don’t care as much, except for the occasional few who haven’t grown into the twenty-first century just yet. A decade too late, is everyone’s mutterings.

“About me,” she continues. “Properly. Like, it’s. They stare, some of them.”

Eleanor looks taken aback, and rightfully so. It definitely wasn’t the first thing on her mind, and to know that there might be shit again brings her posture straight, serious expression, and all ears. “And what’s being done about it?”

Veronica clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “Nothing. It’s.” Shrugging. She knows where El will take this because she’s feisty and will speak up when others won’t. Veronica lashes out in ways that are passive aggressive, when her buttons have been pushed too far, but Eleanor always looks for immediate relief of any kind of feelings she may hold. Sometimes she extends that characteristic onto others, assuming Veronica’s capable of handling situations the same way. She can’t, doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean she’s ungrateful for it either because without that sense of entitlement towards her own feelings, Eleanor wouldn’t’ve been able to be the friend she was back in school. “Shit, saying it like that makes it sound that no one cares. Marcel said everything would be okay, and I know Leeroy will handle it because he’s in HR and deals with issues like this. But,” she worries are her nails, smoothes over the pad of her fingertips across the nail polish that has yet to chip.

“Hey,” El reaches forward, wraps her hand around Veronica’s wrist in order to bring some kind of calmness and stability, _comfort_ to her friend. “I get the feeling that this is about something else, though? You don’t seem too concerned that Marc can handle it.”

“I don’t want people looking at me differently,” Veronica suddenly divulges. Her eyes go wide briefly, unsure that she just rushed what she said. But she did, and she just hopes that she hasn’t drawn the attention of the patrons in the shop. “That’s. It’s normal, I know. But. People staring because you’re wearing a funny hat, or your clothes are inside out, or your makeup's not to their liking- El,” she pleads, for what, she doesn’t know. Understanding? She’s got that already, but it’s something else. Helplessness. “It’s _different_. They look, and they go on their way; it becomes nothing after a few minutes, but now I’ve got people _looking_ at me and trying to piece together the fact that I don’t have a vagina.”

“Babe,” Eleanor offers, voice soft. She chooses then to move seats, closer to Veronica without feeling like there’s a something between them when she’s needed the most. Her hands find V’s, fingers interlocking, and she knows what she’s got to do, what to say to make it okay. It won’t be better, not really, but fighting stuff together is better than alone. “We did this before, okay?” she starts. “You remember? When you came to my house and asked me to help you make it through the hallways at school because you were nervous about going in a skirt?”

Veronica nods, but there’s a mild, sarcastic grimace. “Ugh, and to think I wore that ugly thing.” Her laughter bubbles through. “The only piece of mind I’ve got is knowing it belonged to Doniya.”

“Exactly, darling. And you’re going to do that again. Like, let’s leave the crying for later. We’re in public,” she winks, “but I want you to walk in there and just, don’t care. Well, care, yes. But don’t.”

And the solution seems easy said than done, obviously. But Veronica thinks back to that weekend, that Friday night when she’d finally given in and simply didn’t want to be afraid anymore. She didn’t want to care about what others thought, only wanted to settle the inner battle she had going on within herself; so to do that, she’d sought out Eleanor. She’d gone to her house, practically had a breakdown over the overwhelming circumstances before going through her closet to find some clothes. Not all of them fit, not at that time, not when she was seventeen and looked more like a boy that was slowly transforming into harsh lines and facial hair.

“They’ll think I did this to myself though,” Veronica pushes. She agrees with El, honestly, but this is part of her mind that’s looking for excuses and ways to claw herself out of the situation, one that would leave her looking for a new job. “That I set myself up for whatever they say. I know they probably do already.”

“Stop,” Eleanor says harshly. “What you do is your business, and let me ask you, you like yourself, right?” She gains Veronica’s attention, needs it to remain firm. “You like the way you look and who you are, don’t you? So of-fucking-course you did this to yourself, but it was for the _better_ , wasn’t it? Tell me you’d be happier being Zayn.”

She sucks in a breath, Veronica, chooses to look down at the table and away from Eleanor. “But I’m both, aren’t I? I _am_ a man - Zayn - but I-”

“-you like-” Eleanor tries to finish, but Veronica silences her with, “-like being a lady, too.”

“Then I think you’ve just proven to yourself how you need to handle the situation because there’s no way I’m going to let them have you doubt yourself. Not again,” she affirms, squeezing Veronica’s hand in the process before she lets go in favor of her tea.

They don’t sit in silence afterwards like Veronica expects them too. Instead, Eleanor’s too busy dragging her onto the next topic, no doubt a way to pull her from her thoughts. There’s mentions of a sale, something about clothes or shoes, whatever that’s got her giggly, and it does work. It helps because Veronica’s talked about it with someone who might not understand but at least tries to, and she’s in higher spirits because of it.

Veronica’s not afraid to admit she needs a confidence boost every once in awhile, and she’s very thankful she has people around who readily give it to her.

+

“I literally have to look at everything. They want to make sure they’re covering a broad style of video games, and I swear they’re becoming more graphic. I don’t think I’m going to be able market this like they want it.”

Marcel’s phone calls are typically always boring, but he also tends to play dramatic when Veronica is around by rolling his eyes and pretending to slit his throat.

“I’ve got to have an ad done by the end of the week to show them, and that doesn’t even guarantee that they’ll like it. Fuck, I hate this part of my job,” Marcel continues. “Half the work is coming up with the image that’s going to be slapped all over shitty magazines and billboards, and the other is presenting the damn thing and hoping that the owners buy into it. Shit, if this sells, I think I’ll lose faith in all humanity.”

“You could take it-“

“Hold on, Niall. Veronica’s here. What?”

She gives him a sour look but waves him off. “I said,” she begins again, “if you’ve got an issue with it, take it to Liam, maybe?”

“Orders, Veronica. I’ve got to make the company money, and the only way to do that is if I help market the products.”

He’s back to his phone call, but Veronica’s not very happy with him. “You’re a twat sometimes, especially when you’re stressed,” she immediately spits back. “Plus, it was only a suggestion. If Liam knew what was going on, I’m sure there’d be some questions raised.”

Marcel slumps back in his seat, gives Niall another warning that he won’t be paying attention to him before he apologies. “I’m sorry. I’ll take it to him if that makes you feel better.”

And there’s no excuse for Marcel being snappy with her, but she can hear how tired he is in his voice. There’s not a lot of vacation days taken within the office, and Veronica figures it’s about time Marcel put some of the ones he’s saved to good use.

Although, with that thought, it doesn’t mean she’s going to be easy on him. “Maybe if you spent more time fucking each other instead of using the office line to fill each other in on your days, then this place might be a little happier.” She smiles sarcastically, grabs her notepad before taking a small bow and exiting.

“Veronica-”

She won’t turn back, but she knows she’s made a point.

“Good day, Marcel. I got the info I needed, thanks.” Which is true, she did; Marcel had informed her earlier that they would be having a newer client stop by and that some of the paperwork on their end hadn’t been completely filled out. That left her finding the documents stored away in the drawer behind her desk and filling in the blanks herself.

Now, though, as she heads back to her desk, she can file away the papers, have them ready and easily assessable if Marcel needs them later. They’re his problem before they’re passed on to someone else within the company. The deal’s been set, but now Marcel’s got to make the overall appearance look good before pricing and verified contracts are dealt with.

Veronica takes graceful steps towards her desk. She’s gained back a good majority of her confidence now that it seems things have died down within the gossip world. Last she heard some guy had been having an affair or whatnot, and like, it’s a relief. Well, not for the wife, obviously, but the attention isn’t so much on her anymore as it is the other wonders of the world.

It doesn’t mean it’s completely gone away though, but it’s good. Better.

“Oh good.” A thick accent comes rolling off the tongue of a pretty woman sitting up on Veronica’s desk. All of her stuff that had been neatly organized is scattered and pushed back, making room for the woman’s ass while she sits there and looks at her nails, legs crossed and looking every bit uninterested as one could be. “You’re back.”

“Yes?” Veronica stalls, gently sets down her notepad and holding back her tongue. Luckily, nothing’s spilled over, none of the paper clips or various pens and pencils she keeps at the ready, but it’s still rather annoying that the lady’s got no common courtesy.

“You sit here, right? Like it’s your job to be here, and you weren’t.”

“I have other things to do,” Veronica argues, not quite sure why she feels the need to defend herself. “If I sat here all day nothing would get done. Now, can I help you?” Her tone is a bit sharp, pushing the edge of being stern.

“Liam wants food.”

And okay, that’s the last thing she’d been expecting. “I- what?”

The woman clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, deciding now is a good a time as any to slide off the desk and onto her feet before straightening out her tight-fitting dress. “Liam,” she starts, eyebrows raised and going slow as if Veronica wouldn’t understand her if she went any faster. “Is. Hungry. Food.”

It’s definitely one thing to ask for something, but it’s another to sound condescending, and while Veronica revels in the fact that she doesn’t know who the fuck this woman is, especially with her acting as if she can order Veronica around, it suddenly dawns on her exactly who the fuck this is.

Blondie. The one who got pissy when Veronica interrupted her and Liam’s play time.

“Right,” she says, giving a tight-lipped smile. “What time is it?” She’d move around her desk, but there’s no point when she’s going to have to figure out lunch.

“It’s nearly one,” the blonde quickly answers. “Also, Liam wanted me to tell you that he wants coffee too; looks like it’s going to be a busy day.”

The annoying thing here isn’t the lack of preparation on anyone’s part. Veronica’s perfectly fine with fulfilling requests, but when she’s being talked _at_ , well, that’s a cause for concern. There’s a specific difference in being belittled and treated like a child and actually being nice. This woman has no sense of the word, or she’s really milking the idea that Veronica’s at her disposal. She wouldn’t’ve even put it past Liam to inform the woman to make any request she had to Veronica; although, what Liam probably meant by that was most likely under the pretense of being informative and helpful rather than taking advantage of Veronica.

“Any specific requests?” she asks, knowing that she’s got no fight left to give. Veronica’s smart enough to realize that it’s easier to just listen when it comes to things like this, better to keep her mouth shut and cater. She wouldn’t put it past a face like this to try and have her fired. Call Veronica rude and assuming, but she’s seen enough stingy women in this office, like raging bulls when they’ve been compromised of their true intentions. (Which, that might not be a fair thing to say about _all_ of them. There'd been plenty of wonderful women Liam had dated, too).

Veronica’s not saying that it’ll happen with this lovely young blonde, but there’s a pretty damn good chance that she’s not going to end up with a ring on her finger.

Just saying.

“There’s a little shop around the corner, fantastic sandwiches. You can try there.”

Which wasn’t strictly the answer she was looking for; more details would’ve been nice because as much as Veronica has a location, she’s no clue exactly what _type_ of food. Ham or turkey? White or wheat? Mustard or mayonnaise? Both? Neither? And the woman is already gone at this point, no chance left to seek her out and ask. Veronica could very well interrupt whatever is going on in Liam’s office, but that earns herself a laugh she only shares with herself.

So, she’ll wing it; no big deal.

Veronica files the papers first, wants those out of the way before she tries to clean up what she can of her desk. As she places the cup holder full of pens back into its original position, she picks up the desk phone and calls Marcel.

With no luck.

The phone gives an unsurprising beep, the line still occupied, so she gives up on being considerate about lunch and foregoes the plan of bringing her friends anything at all. They’ll manage, and it’s not like she can’t run out later if she needs to.

Veronica quickly gathers her belongings, the few items like money and her id before heading down to the street, using the air around her as a means to soothe her frustrations.

+

Because everyone seems to want to be an inconvenience, or maybe it’s just the universe dead set on making a good day go wrong, Veronica’s just about to pick up the to-go boxes and drink carrier when her phone buzzes in her pocket. Thankfully, it’s not turned up, the tune of whatever kind of ringtone that’s set at the moment - most likely something Harry’s put as a way to embarrass her in situations exactly like this one, with a lot of people around - can't be heard, so she’s not standing there looking like an idiot fumbling for their mobile decide.

What this does mean, though, is that she has to quickly grab everything, find a small table in the cramped sandwich shop so she can get to her phone without trying to do everything at once.

Whether it’s fortunate or not that the damn thing continues to buzz, Veronica doesn’t know because if she had missed the call, she’d be able to get to it later instead of having to worry about it right now. But then again, it might be her boss, or someone equally important and missing it could result in her being at fault for not meeting the standards she’s meant to maintain.

When she finally gets to sit, phone already in her hand, she looks at the screen and nearly groans when she finds Harry’s name flashing across the screen. “Seriously?” she whispers. He doesn’t normally call, especially when she’s at work, and considering it’s only an hour or so past noon, there’s no reason for him to even be up yet.

“This better be important. I’ve got a boss and a bitch who’s hungry, and I don’t have time for nonsense.” She more or less spits out her words, fingers tapping against the table while she waits for her friend’s voice to fill her ear.

“Well, hello to you too. You’ve got five minutes to spare?”

Honestly, she doesn’t, but it’s Harry, so she’ll make excuses if she ends up needing one later. “Five minutes; your time starts now.”

“I’m going to need you to take me to work tonight, and secondly, we’re going to have a little chat when you get home.”

Veronica clears her throat, watches as more people shuffle into the little shop. It’s becoming crowded, too much chatter and a lot of bodies. She’s going to have to excuse her way out of this place. “That’s all you needed to tell me? You could’ve texted that!”

Harry, now, sounds mildly frustrated on the other end of the phone. It’s not like him to express such negativity. Mostly his behavior makes up for that, but Veronica’s interested, wondering what’s really going on. “You better start talking.”

“You can’t get mad at ‘em. He’s my brother, after all.”

And that’s when Veronica’s heart plummets because when that sentence ever comes out of Harry’s mouth, she knows that Marcel’s done something she’s told him not to do. “Ten seconds, and I’m hanging up. You may or may not find the body.”

Harry barks out a laugh, giggles coming through the phone, which only makes Veronica even more irritated. “You get mean when you’re cranky.”

“Harry-”

“Okay,” he settles. “He might’ve mentioned some stuff going on at work-”

“Fucking hell,” Veronica mutters. “I don’t have time for this. We’re not talking about shit, and I have to go.” And her finger finds the end call button, putting her phone back into her pocket before gathering her things so she can leave.

It’s a bit of a hassle having to balance an array of things, coffee and sandwiches. It also doesn’t help that Veronica’s phone vibrates in her pocket the entire way back to the office.

She doesn’t pick it up when she gets inside.

+

“This,” that goddamn, over-manicured finger waves itself across the food in a sweeping motion, “is not gonna work.”

She’s in the middle of setting down her bosses food on the coffee table, him on the other side of the room going through a drawer in his desk. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s not what I wanted,” what’s-her-name says. “There’s too much bread, and not enough mustard. This’ll make me gain.”

Veronica lifts her hand to her mouth, biting down on her knuckle before she lets go, smiling widely. “If you don’t recall,” she starts with a slightly sarcastic tone to her voice, but it’s not like this woman’s going to be able to pick up on it, or maybe she will; Veronica doesn’t care, “you didn’t specify.”

Which is enough of a counter-argument to shut the girl up, but it doesn’t stop her from rolling her eyes and huffing.

“Babe,” and it’s Liam’s voice that rings out. “See what V’s brought me, and switch it if you like that.”

Veronica’s got half a mind to turn around and frown at him, but that’d be pointless. “Well then,” she announces. “If you don’t need anything else, I’ll be getting back to my desk now.”

She’s waved away with pale fingers and a half frown, not at all polite. Veronica knows when she’s dismissed, and she understands when she’s disliked. Her blood may boil, and she may rake her teeth over her bottom lip with anger, but the door is getting closer with each steps she takes, and the air in the next room will taste so much sweeter. Certainly the tension will be cut in half, if not more.

“Oh, and Veronica?”

Doing her best not to groan, she turns half way around, hand on the door so she can close it on her way out.

“Thank you,” Liam finishes.

And no one can be mad at that face, absolutely no one. So, she nods; it’s the best she can give at this point before she’s exiting the room to head back to her disorganized mess.

Only, it’s not just screwed up by another woman’s arse, but there’s another sticky note being placed onto her computer’s screen. And it’s not like said person can’t see Veronica. She’s only a few steps away, and maybe it’s the fake plant that sits there that blocks their direct line of vision (the stupid ass tree that sits to Veronica’s left that’s supposed to brighten the place up, when in reality all it does is become helpful during Christmas when they bring out the lights), or it’s the fact that Veronica knows the woman who thinks she’s got the right to harass her.

But her brain stalls. This is Veronica’s one chance to stand up for herself here and take back whatever it is that she’s lost in these people’s eyes. She could very well rat the woman out, take it to Leeroy and have her written up for this kind have behavior because while Veronica doesn’t think highly of herself, it’s not fair for people to think they can get away with calling her such inconsiderate, hurtful, and transphobic names. It’s wrong on all levels.

However, while this happens, while Veronica freezes up, it doesn’t help that the door just behind her - the one to Liam’s office - opens up and a shrill voice is calling her name. Veronica’s startled, and by the time her vision has come into focus, the sticky note is in place, and the woman has scampered off (and it’s not like Veronica can’t deal with her later, but there’s a difference in catching someone in the act and confronting them later because it’s word against word, and Veronica’s got a feeling a lot of denial would be involved). Now, though, the woman who’s dating Liam, that still has no goddamn name (surely she does; Veronica still doesn't know it), is adamant on gaining Veronica’s attention.

So, what happens next? It’s less of a blur and more of a mess because as soon as Veronica turns around, she’s met with hot coffee spilled down the front of her blouse, soaking the entire front, and definitely staining the material. Her skin burns (thankful that it’s been at least a good fifteen minute since she bought the coffee; it’s definitely cooled down _some_ since then), and she’s slightly bent forward in such a way that she’s looking down at her clothes and the mess on the floor, trying with all her might to blink, focus, and realize that this actually really did happened.

“Oh,” and Veronica knows she’s going to comment something dumb, but she’s still trying to process the feeling of liquid running down her chest, “that’s not a good look on you.”

Veronica snaps her gaze up, lips pinched into a frown. “Was there something you needed?”

“Yeah,” blondie replies. “I was gonna ask you to dump this out and just make me some. I’m sure it’s better here. This tastes like shit.” She shakes the empty cup without looking any bit concerned with what she’s done, no apologies seem to be on their way out, and there’s definitely not a rush to help Veronica by grabbing some napkins.

“Uh huh,” Veronica slyly grins, probably looking more murderous than anything else because the woman does take a step back. “Well,” she stands up straight, ignores the way she feels gross and wet before licking the front of her teeth, “it looks like you’re going to have to figure it out for yourself while I take my leave to the ladies room. Excuse me.”

“But-”

Veronica’s nostrils flare. Lord help her, this woman better not. She’s patient, Veronica. She’s loyal, and she’s kind, but this, no. A line has been drawn. This was only an accident, sure, but the indecency and lack of common courtesy on the other party’s behalf is so ridiculous that Veronica doesn’t even care.

She takes her leave without another word, heads straight for the bathroom and locks it behind her because there’s no way she’s going to be able to dry it otherwise. She’s going to have to sit in a brown-stained shirt for the rest of the day, completely unflattering, but it’s better than it being sopping wet, she guesses.

When she peels it off, the first thing she does is run it under the water. In the process, she avoids the mirror, too busy scrubbing away the caffeine before it sets into the fabric of the shirt. A large amount seems to come out, but there’s only so much Veronica can do. So from there, she wrings it out as much as she can before setting it under the dryer. She continuously has to wave her hand under it every thirty seconds for it to click back on, and it takes forever for her shirt to finally dry, but Veronica’s too busy zoned out enough not to care.

No one comes looking for her, thank god, and she knows she’s going to have to go back out there, clean up what was spilled and face Barbie. But part of her blames it on the heat of the dryer warming up her hands from the chill that’s been in her bones for too long, some of it her long overdue tears. They don’t come harshly, and Veronica doesn’t find them until she’s got the shirt around her shoulders again, face a little red and tear-stained as she looks in the mirror. It’s inevitable, can’t avoid it forever. And it’s not like she’s ever had too much of a problem looking, but as much as the truth is written on legal paper, there’s only one other source for it too: her body.

See, as much as Veronica looks the part, sometimes the outline of her figure doesn’t distinctly match that. Her stomach’s a little too hard, not enough of a curve to the hips, shoulders broad. The medicine's helped, the hormones. Everything’s a little less defined now she’s been taking the pills for so long, have added a softness to her walk, and a little weight to her build. And then there are the breasts. They’re small, but they’re there, filling out the material of her bra. They’d been an added bonus, though having to look down and get used to the fact that they were there took awhile to accept - not in fear of having them but finally feeling as if things were clicking into place. Looking the part is one thing, but becoming it inside and out, well, that’s entirely different.

But ultimately it also meant that there would be no more bras stuffed with excess material to make it look like something was there. A relief as much as it was a defining moment.

Veronica does up the buttons on her shirt quickly enough, smoothes out the front of the material, and even with the smallest amount of cleavage available, that still doesn’t help distract anyone from the obvious stain. She’ll deal with it by trying to make a joke of it if anyone asks.

Her fingers quickly sweep over her cheeks, carefully and considerably so she doesn’t smear any of her makeup. It’s difficult for her to deem herself presentable, but that’s what she has to be. She’s got a job to get back to.

+

The moment she exits the bathroom, she’s greeted by a figure leaning up against the wall.

Liam’s got his arms crossed, looking rather focused, and Veronica wonders what he’s doing and if it’s at all possible to walk past him without gaining his attention.

But it seems as if his reasoning for being out of the office is for Veronica because as soon as she gathers herself, she walks, gaze aimed at her desk until Liam calls her name in the most delicate voice she’s heard from him.

“Yes?” She runs her hands over her pants, wiping away at the nervousness and smoothing out any wrinkles. Since she’d also tucked her shirt back in, Veronica messes with the collar, hoping her arm might be a good cover for the coffee stain.

However, Liam, as she soon finds, knows what’s going on. He sighs and pulls himself away from the wall, completely conflicted as to what to say to Veronica. His hands end up stuffed into his pockets, shoulders holding a bit of tension. “I was looking for you.”

“Well, I’m right here,” she says, smiling, pushing her glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose.

“Are you okay? I-”

“Yeah, why?” she quickly interrupts him, clearly knowing what she’s done but not bothering to apologize for it either. Veronica doesn’t mean to rush him, but she’d like to get back to work now, avoid as many people as possible and go home.

And actually, as much as she thinks about that little reprieve, Harry’s going to be after her, too.

“What happened with, um, you know- I got someone to clean up the mess so you wouldn’t have to.” He shrugs a shoulder like he’s finding it difficult to keep the conversation going.

So, Veronica turns back around to assess the area and finds that yeah, it is clean and that woman is no longer in sight. “That was nice of you. You didn’t have-”

“Veronica, were you crying?”

Now, the funny thing is, the both of them looked surprised. Liam looks stricken, like he’d been way too blunt and should’ve went about a nicer way to gain an answer. Veronica, on the other hand, feels her heart fall down deep into her chest, the levity she’d had earlier in her day, completely wiped away by a few mere actions and now by this particular question. She wonders if she still looks it, if maybe she failed to put everything back in place, but there is no mirror to determine that now, and what she’s got to do is remove herself from being put on the spot.

“Maybe a little,” she admits. “The coffee was hot.”

“Right.” Liam nods, as if that definitely makes sense, but then he’s removing his hand from a pocket and fumbling with something. It’s indistinguishable until he unfolds it, trying his best to remove the crinkles the paper has suffered. It’s a sticky note, a yellow one. Not uncommon in an office of this caliber, but he looks down at it with detest, licks his lips and brings his gaze back to Veronica’s.

What it could be, she has no clue, but the secretary is bound to find out when Liam offers it to her, arm outstretched. “This was on your desk,” he says. “On the computer screen, and I’m not sure what to make of it, but Veronica, if something’s going on, you can always let me know. I hope you know that. I took care of my girlfriend... ex-girlfriend,” he dips his head, a gesture that he’s going to have to get used to that word, probably leaving a bitter taste in his mouth; Liam’s not the kind to be single for long though, “and if there’s anything else going on you’d like to-”

“No.” Veronica shakes her head. She hasn’t even read the paper, already having a general idea of what it might say, especially considering the context its been in as of late. When she finally does glance down, there’s a small bit of relief. In black ink, the word _fag_ sits heavily on the sticky note, and although it’s still an insult, it’s something she can pass off. “Shopping list,” she murmurs. “Yeah, like, Marcel tends to make a list for me, and sometimes he forgets things.” Whether anyone else would buy this, Veronica doesn’t know. All she’s considered it with is Liam taking the bait. “Probably could’ve done a better job at asking for some smokes.”

She’d like to wince at her lie, but it’s the only thing she’s got.

Fortunately enough, Liam takes her word for it (though he does look wary of her answer at first). He trusts her, and there’s no reason why she’d give him false information.

So, he smiles, relief finding itself in his body. A happy boss is a happy work place. It’s okay for Veronica’s smile to be fake. She’ll pretend, throw the note away like last time and rid herself of her troubles for the sake of a boss who doesn’t know any better. Her problems are not Liam’s, and she’d like to keep it that way for as long as she works here.

“Well,” he claps his hands together. “Now that things have settled, Marcel came into my office about some project of his, said he was unsure, and because he’s left me everything to look over, I figured I’d offer you a chance to help me out?”

Now, normally this isn’t what Veronica does. She doesn’t touch any part of the business unless it has to do with errands, meetings, phone calls, and setting up appointments. Rarely, if ever, does she get to stand on the other side of the business, the way it’s all handled, what each person at their cubicle actually does. And it’s fine that way. It doesn’t bother her because she’s got her own job to manage, but the fact that Marcel did what she asked by taking it to Liam makes her feel a lot better that someone actually listened.

Veronica’s a lowly secretary, and even if Marcel’s her friend - same with Leeroy - they’re in higher positions, technically not meant to be talking to her about any of their projects. So, it’s quite a surprise when Liam continues on and says, “Marcel told me it was your idea anyway, to come to me, I mean. Which was smart; this company has an image to uphold.”

"Uh, I'm not quite sure I'd be much help, actually.”

“Would you just try, maybe?” And Liam must realize that his request sounds pushy because he shakes his head. “Sorry,” he says. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I thought I’d offer, though, see if you had anything up your sleeves.”

Veronica feels bad enough not to ask whether or not Liam’s just as stumped as Marcel is about this particular project, so she tuts and sighs in a rather dramatic fashion that catches Liam’s attention. “I can try.” She throws in a smile for some extra reassurance that she’s doing it because she wants to, not because she feels guilty or pushed. “Can’t say I’m going to be able to give you anything decent, but I’ll take a shot at it anyway.”

Liam beams before making the move to head back to his office. However, he pauses, brows slightly creased as he says, “Just stop by when you can, then? I’d hate to pull you away from whatever you were busy doing. I’ll leave you to it.”

And then he’s walking past Veronica, giving her some distance before she mentally kicks herself for falling right into Liam’s hands. And again, it’s her own fault for feeling like she’s got to please him; she knew Liam wouldn’t ever make her do something she didn’t want to, even if he was her boss. But the fact that Veronica knows she’d give up a bit of her time in order to make his a little easier, that has the feeling of butterflies swarming her tummy.

Marcel’s always been right. She’s really taken with him.

+

Literally the only thing she can do is blink and try to keep the grimace off her face.

“-like the blood too. Oh, and the bone. They definitely said they want that. Fucking hell, what am I supposed to do? I’m in complete favor of the companies choice for their product, but it’s not just their name on the box.”

He’s looking over a detailed list of expectations for the rough draft of artwork they’re supposed to have for a new video game setting to launch within the next couple of months.

At first, Veronica hadn’t known exactly what the big issues was, having only heard some of the conversation from Marcel earlier. However, now that Liam’s going over the description, she can see why this might be a bit of a problem.

“What’s the game rated?” she asks.

“They want teen, but there’s no realistic way that’s going to happen. Even if the cover art was toned down, it wouldn’t matter. It’s the content,” Liam explains, growing frustrated. He then hands over the page to Veronica so she can see for herself.

The list isn’t very long, holding everything Liam had told her about with account and what they were looking for. To her, there’s not many ways to actually solve this aside from pulling out of the deal and taking it as a loss. It might’ve wasted a bit of their time, but at least the reputation that Liam seems to want to uphold won’t be jeopardized.

“Isn’t there worse than this out there?”

“Which team are you on here?”

Veronica licks the front of her teeth, a little peeved that her question was only just responded to with another. “Yours, obviously. I was just asking.”

Silence ensues, and nothing really happens after that until Veronica settles on something, a little thought that won’t leave her, that may just help everyone out.

She reaches over for a pen on the coffee table, flipping over the paper to find it blank. To the best of her ability, she goes from there, placing the page onto the table before beginning a rough sketch of what she hopes will please her boss.

“You draw?” And he sounds surprised.

Veronica continues to work; although, she still addresses him. “Yeah, sort of. Not very good, but this should suffice for now, I think.”

Liam is kind enough to leave her be after that, stays quiet for a good five minutes before he gets antsy and decides to speak up again. "Mind if you talk me through it?” The drawing has advanced, with more lines and a clearer image. It’s still a rough edit, but it does a good job at getting the point across, at least from what Liam can see.

Veronica continuous sketching for a moment or two longer until she gets to a decent stopping point. "Well, I'm keeping the player to the forefront of the poster, but with the gore in the background. It's still there," she points, "but it's not the focal point. By creating a distraction, it means that the first thing people notice isn't going to be the bloody bits."

"It'll be the player. I get what I want without complaints from not filling requests, and no angry parents either," Liam finishes. His posture is a little more lax, and it's hard for Veronica not to feel good about being the one responsible for it. “That just might work.”

Whether she’s to leave or not, Veronica’s got no clue. So, instead of debating that decision, she goes back to drawing. There’s really no need to given that Liam’s not gonna be able to use it. He’ll more than likely take it back to Marcel to create a mock-up for the creators of the game. He’s in marketing for a reason, and although Veronica’s strategy is smart, there’s no doubt in her mind that he’ll take her idea and run with it, creating something damn good enough to sell. As much as Veronica has time limits and a schedule to keep, her friend has people to please and bright ideas that shouldn’t ever go to waste. He also has more at stake, too; employees are always replaceable, and while Veronica knows for a fact that that might’ve been a fear of his - the reason he’d actually been on the phone earlier with Niall - proves he’s nothing but a worrywart and a perfectionist.

“You didn’t have to break up with your girlfriend because of me.”

And maybe that’s been a thought in her mind ever since Liam had asked her to join him on this little project. Veronica’s not that conceited or obsessed to think that because Liam had dropped the woman so easily, that meant she could make a move. However, apparently it hadn’t stopped her from feeling downright terrible for such a thing. If only she’d keep a level head, or if she’d just listened and done what she was told, maybe Liam wouldn’t be going home alone with another breakup under his sleeve, a bottle of jack to fill the empty space in his bed.

“Like,” she chews on her lip, “not that you’d do that _because_ of me, or anything, but I just meant that if you did so because of the incident in the lobby, it was an accident.” The grip on the pen falters until she’s able to regain her hold, tightly wrapping her fingers around it but not bothering to put the object to use again.

“Veronica,” and Liam’s voice is lowered, bringing her attention to his. “That’s one of the reasons, yeah, but when I clearly see that someone thinks they're above someone else because of the position they're in, then all bets are off.”

Which doesn’t clear up much for Veronica, really. If he’s addressing blondie as someone who felt entitled, then maybe she could agree with that, slightly. But then again, it’s not like she hung out with the woman on a frequent basis either. The most she’d seen of the ex was whenever she’d show up to the office, and that alone did not warrant judgment.

Thing is, Veronica knows she gave it because she knows exactly the type of women that walk in and out of her boss’ office. Young women looking for something more as long as it involved a little money and to be treated like a princess.

“Sorry,” she says. “I stepped out of line. Forgive me.” Setting down the pen, Veronica pushes the piece of paper over towards Liam before standing up.

Liam catches her by her wrist though, stops her from walking off, and if anyone were to say that Veronica lost her breath for a good five seconds, she’d deny it even if it were true.

The lick of her lips is probably a natural response, even as she turns around to stare down at her boss and question him. But Liam just looks up with a smile, really not knowing what he’s doing merely by gracing Veronica with his touch. And she’s stupid, really, but a crush is a crush, isn’t it? She can’t help that her heart rate quickly speeds up.

“You didn’t.” Liam shakes his head, eventually letting go of Veronica’s wrist. “Just wanted you to know. I’m sorry, even, for her. She never should’ve been apart of my life. Think she cheated on me,” he confesses.

That information is probably too much, and while Veronica’s been here for awhile, Liam’s never made a conscious effort to include her in on these kinds of personal thoughts. She briefly wonders what’s changed, but a question like that would completely cross a line she’s never intends to overstep. She’s not privy to Liam’s entire life, as it should be, because it’s his and his alone. Veronica, as far as anyone is concerned, is only the assistant, not even a friend to Liam either.

She’s known this all along, though. The truth doesn’t hurt as much as it did once before.

“I’m sorry,” she replies. “That was shitty of her, then.”

Liam sighs before standing up himself, gathering Veronica’s drawing and looking it over. “This is good. Better than I could’ve imagined. Thank you for helping.”

With sincerity, Veronica ducks her head and tells him it’s, “Not a problem, honest.” And afterwards, before things can go in any kind of direction, she excuses herself, tells Liam that she hopes Marcel likes it - doesn’t have to give her any credit whatsoever - before trying to make her leave.

Although, Liam addresses her again just as she gets to the door, and while Veronica mentally sighs because she just wants to get away from the Liam she knows he’ll be for the next few days, the one that drags himself through piles of work to fill a void, she doesn’t want to witness the beginning of his process, the minor internal destruction he does to himself that no one bothers noticing unless they’ve got very good eyes and a sense of empathy.

“You can leave, if you want,” Liam says. “Your shirt, I’m sure it’s uncomfortable.” And he points, Veronica following his movements to her own blouse where she finds the coffee stain spread out across the fabric, dark brown and ugly. She can’t help the blush that follows afterwards.

“Right,” she breathes out a laugh. “Yeah, uh, thank you.”

As soon as Veronica’s out of the room, at her desk, she gathers her things. Normally she’d shrug it off and finish out the rest of her to-do list, but she convinces herself that there’s always tomorrow to get things finished. She might have to go at it twice as hard, or make up for it by staying at the office late, but it beats sticking around here and waiting for the next unfortunate event to happen.

+

Harry's asleep when Veronica gets home, and that's a good thing. He won't be able to bother her about work - at least it stops him from asking about it for a few more hours. She’ll get to use her free time for a bath, and mostly, it's a bit of a luxury to be able to do this. With all the men in the house, it's more trouble than it's worth.

So, she's able to take her time. Fill the tub with hot water and a bit of soap before slipping in with a sigh of relief. And it's worth it, obviously. The water rushes over her skin and soothes the aches she finally feels now that nothing is on her mind. Veronica wiggles her toes, settles on completely relaxing, knowing the water will eventually lull her to a state of sleepiness.

Well, it sounds nice in theory because not even ten minutes later, Harry comes barging through the door.

Veronica's startled, and Harry's still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes before he realizes where he is. "Oh."

"The fuck, Harry?" She then cups her hand into the water, the one that's not trying to conceal her modesty, and splashes Harry without a care that she’ll get him wet.

"V, I'm sorry!" Unfortunately, Harry's not fast enough, having little to no room to duck away from the water Veronica sends his way. He throws his hands up though, uses one of them to shield his eyes. "I'm not looking. Stop it."

"Good. Now what the fuck are you doing?" She's pulled the curtain forward a little, just enough so that she can wash the soap off her skin. There's no point in staying here now.

"What every person has to do at some point in their day, piss."

"Could've knocked."

"Could've told me you were home early," Harry counters.

But it's not just a chance for her to claim touché. The tone of Harry's voice, well, Veronica knows all too well, and it's more of a question, border lining on an accusation.

"Don't you dare," she warns.

Shuffling can be heard, and Harry's kind enough to wait to do his business, but that doesn't mean he can't sit down either.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to talk about it. There's _nothing_ to talk about anyway."

The sound of Harry clicking his tongue rings loud, the unamusement clear. "Marcel says differently."

"And who the fuck cares what Marcel has to say? He's stressed at work." Like that's a good enough excuse for either of them to believe that he'd make up shit, or use that as a way to take away from his own issues. It’s not strictly a low blow, but it does come off as rude and defensive. Harry will, for sure, pick up on it.

“Veronica, you can’t sit here and lie. You know Marcel-”

She pulls back the curtain enough to look at Harry. He’s leaning up against the wall, knees drawn up so that he’s able to rest his arms on them.

“What _your brother_ should’ve done was kept his mouth shut, Harry. It’s not that big of a deal, and even if it was, I can handle it.” She glares, knowing full well- the _both_ of them knowing full well - that she’s trying to pass this off as nothing when it’s not. Clearly it’s not, otherwise she wouldn’t be so adamant about leaving it alone.

It’s just not a matter she _wants_ to discuss. Not with Harry, with Marcel. And god, Eleanor. Lord, if she found out anything more was going on, she’d be the first in that building, a fiery blur of brown hair with a sarcastic, demeaning tongue. A hothead is what Louis calls her because she calls it like she sees it. Sometimes it comes in handy, but more often than not her truth hurts.

Harry runs a hand over his mouth, wiping away nothing at all but the remnants of a plea for his friend’s sake. His green eyes read more than just confliction, something closer to concern, and while on some deep level Veronica appreciates it, she doesn’t need it right now. What she wants is to sort through all the bloody emotions that’ve been prodded at with those goddamn notes, similar to scabs that’ve healed over from her days in school, which not only bleed through every now and again but burn something fierce in her chest.

“I know there’s a part of you trying to be macho about this and withhold your dignity, but V,” Harry’s shoulders slump, twisting his lips into a frown, “it’s not going to do a lick of good if something continues to happen.”

“Screw you,” she spits, wet hair sticking together and framing her face. Veronica can’t be bothered to move it. “I don’t know why you have to be so nosy.”

At this point, Harry’s grown frustrated, pushed to the limits from being talked down to. Veronica’s hurt; that’s the main reason she’s lashing out at him like she is, and it’s best to remember that. “I didn’t think looking out for my best friend’s best interest was considered being nosy, but fine. Don’t come crying to me when you can’t take it.”

After those particular sharp words, Harry stands up, ready to exit the room, but the plash of water and Veronica whispering his name under her breath, stops him from doing so.

“It’s just the same shit, Harry. Names and the like, okay?”

Her voice reads defeated, vulnerable, and it’s been a long time since Harry’s heard it sound that way. “Why haven’t you said-”

“What’s there to say?” Veronica interrupts. “Oh, some co-workers found out that I’ve got a dick instead of a vagina so they insist on calling me names. Yeah, that’ll go over well with everyone else.”

Harry’s probably biting his tongue; although, Veronica can’t tell because he’s still facing the door. Despite his frame, tall and still a bit awkward with his limbs, sometimes she wonders if she’d resemble him had she decided to forgo the HRT. There’s days when she longs for a flatter chest, or the sharpness of her bones that were a lot more prominent before the small amount of weight gain she endured. There’s never been a moment that Veronica’s wanted to go back to her former looks completely, has always been in favor of her feminine side, but it still crosses her mind sometimes. It’s not a crime to do so either.

It’s always been hard to explain to people exactly what she felt, however. The easiest answer she’d known how to give had simply been to say that there were parts of both genders she liked and wanted. Androgynous, or something of the sort, and while she didn’t identify with that particular label, it gave people a physical representation of what her soul felt like. What she felt like, and what she wanted for herself.

However, and in reality, Veronica knew the direction she wanted to go in for a career, and that meant having to bend the rules she’d set for herself. There’s like a silent code of conduct amongst big businesses, where people dress the same, kind of look the same, a nine-to-five job that didn’t allow variation or independence because it’s all about being appropriate.

So, Veronica adopted a look that suited her best, that would have her pass as one gender over the other, and while she doesn’t complain about having to dress the way she does, it’s increasingly frustrating when she can’t speak up about her pronouns, about what she’d like.

It’s a known rule in the house that anyone that comes over is allowed to use any pronoun they see fit. More often than not, it’s _she_ because it’s a lot more natural, societies training to have all things gendered. However, it’s still good to know she can get away with looking like her male counterpart. She’ll braid her hair, dress in old jeans and a graphic tee, forget the makeup, and maybe it’s cruel, but she likes it when people are left staring, the question in their eyes including whether or not they should address her with sir or ma’am. They don’t want to offend, is the thing, and that’s how Veronica knows they’re not trying to hurt her.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt again, Veronica. Once was enough to last a lifetime, and these are _adults_. They should know better.” Harry manages to pull himself together, leans up against the counter so that Veronica’s in view again. She looks so young, chin resting on one of her knees and trying to hold herself together. “I know you think it’s easier, _better_ to think it’s nothing, but it’s something. And it hurts you, and that’s important enough to matter.”

And his words, they’re meant to jolt her into doing something for herself, to get her to see the truth of what he’s said, but Veronica’s spent so long questioning that kind of stuff. What it means, what really matters, if _she_ matters at all. Which, it’s a difficult thing to do, to play selfish for good reasons, but there’s the other side of things, too, where Veronica doesn’t want to make things a big deal, doesn’t want to make her situation worse than it already is. If she can just find the mental block she used in school to avoid getting hurt from all the kids that didn’t understand her need to look the way she wanted to, then she’ll be just fine.

The thing is, she hadn’t expected to deal with this. Sure, adults are just as cruel as kids because they know how to manipulate the truth. Kids are a little different; they just go straight for it. Both are bad, but adults, more often than not, do it with intent, and they should know better. Harry’s right, but Veronica’s long learned that that’s never going to change.

“I know,” she reasons, a part of her wanting to placate Harry for now. He’ll know though; he’ll see right through her, know that she’s lying. Veronica just hopes that he won’t call her out on it again. “It’s- yeah, I get it.”

Harry looks mildly convinced, but there’s still that lingering glint in his eye that reads otherwise. Veronica can’t get away with shit, just the same as Harry can’t either.

“Look,” Harry pulls himself away from the counter; he’s going to leave and give Veronica a bit of privacy in just a moment, and she does her best to remember that, “you can be mad at me for cornering you into talking about this. I don’t care, but please, for Marcel’s sake, don’t yell at him. He did the same thing you would’ve done for him, or me.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Veronica in the bath, the water colder than it had been when she first got in. She’ll have to resort to showering now, not exactly what she wanted, but it does help disguise the sound of her crying.

++

_The hormones are introduced when Zayn is on the cusp of turning nineteen. The decision had been a long time coming, the thought having been on his mind for the past year and a half. While his parents were mostly supportive, the effects of hormone replacement therapy wouldn’t be extremely drastic until several months in, it working differently for every person going through with it._

_Although, hormones, it seemed, was a scary word. When he’d asked, his mother had been skeptical and his father had been nothing but worried because this was a new development, a lot more serious than makeup and clothes._

_But Zayn had wanted it, knew he needed it._

_And so he got it with thorough research and careful appointments._

_The results are what stares at him in the mirror now, the weight gain, the loss of muscle definition, the softness, the lack of overall testosterone that made him a man. Of course, Zayn still sees Zayn, but he also sees the woman in him too, feels better, calmer, much like himself._

_He feels like both for the first time in his life, and the tears, they well up in his eyes out of happiness, out of peace for the way that he looks, not ashamed that the muscles in his abdomen are still slightly there, that he’s gained small breasts, or that he’s definitely still fond of his cock._

_However, this moment lasts for awhile, yes, the happiness and the overall joy he feels knowing he’s nearly close to perfection and a peace of mind._

_But as much as it shouldn’t be a problem, and as much as Zayn’s created himself in the way he wants to be seen, it’s never meant it’d be easy. The outside world is a scary place, and while grade school has been left behind, it still leaves college and adulthood._

_Less acceptance, more judgment, lots of hate._

_And the worst luck anyone’s had when it comes to dating._

++

With her emotions already strung out, it does her a bit of good to get back into the flow of things. This means work. As much as she hates sitting on her ass for a good portion of her day, she’s also able to focus and get things done.

The week passes by with very little stress and ease. That’s a good thing because Veronica’s able to feel normal again, where things weren’t up in the air about her gender, where Liam’s habits were so easily readable, and the way that Marcel had been able to knock out at least a good five projects on his own.

This past weekend was also a good one. Despite Harry’s blatant need to get drunk like he always does, the gang had all set out for a rough Saturday night. The drinks kept coming, there may or may not have been someone dancing on top of the bar, but all in all, it’s exactly what everyone needed to feel alive again. The next morning was a taste of hell itself, but no one complained. It’d been more than worth it.

And while Veronica’s not twenty-two anymore, the alcohol probably doing a lot more to her system than when she was younger, it still felt good, like a breath of fresh air to be reminded that things didn’t have to be so bad, that life had little pleasures and the intrusion of ignorance shouldn’t hold a meaning in her life.

Then again, alcohol makes people reevaluate a lot of things, makes the truth a lot more tangible, everyone less rational, and twice as confident than anyone should ever be.

So, it’s good, great even. Especially when Marcel had managed to find Veronica one day out of the week to thank her profusely for helping him with the sketch she’d done several days beforehand. Apparently, Marcel had been able to create a concept around the idea Veronica had started. The meeting was a hit, with their own company well on their way to another check in the bank.

However, as much as things had been smooth sailing, it’d take Veronica over a day to convince Leeroy that she was _fine_ with what happened to her information; a partial lie, but he didn’t need to know that. She didn’t blame him for his error either because in reality, it wasn’t his fault. Someone went looking for stuff without asking, and that blame belonged to them alone. Leeroy’d been adamant, though, about making it right, and Veronica settled on hearing out his apology. She figured it was better to let him have his own peace rather than her own.

After that, things were fine once again; although, there was Liam. His actions as of late have fit into the norm when it comes to the way he handles things, but Veronica swears she hasn’t seen him leave his office so far today, and that’s more than a little worrisome.

Debating on going in there or not, is a tough decision to make. The door is closed, and she knows how that worked out last time, but something nags at her, that because Liam hasn’t been seen, he probably hasn’t eaten yet either. It’d come as no surprise to her if he’s in there right now staring down at important documents, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in order to fend off a lack-of-food-headache.

“Sir?” she calls as she knocks on the door, finding that she’s already made her decision. No answer comes at first, so Veronica pushes past her morality and pushes it open.

What she’s greeted with is a dark office. Well, as dark as it can get because the sun still shines through the blinds behind Liam’s desk. The lights are off, however, and Liam’s just laying on the couch, an arm slung over his eyes.

He’s probably sleeping.

So, Veronica makes to backtrack out of the room, just let him be until he shifts, raises his head enough to notice the presence of someone else in the room before he goes back to his original position. “Yes?”

“Um,” Veronica hesitates, not really sure how to address her concern. It’s not really her problem, and it’s unusual for her to be this forward about it, too. “Just wanted to see if maybe there was something I could help you with? You’ve been in your office for a while, don’t think you’ve left once.”

Whether Liam quirks an eyebrow at her knowledge of his behavior, Veronica can’t tell, but that’s probably a good thing. If he had chosen to glance at her again, she’d probably end up flushing with embarrassment.

“I decided to put off all other business and make Mr. Wilson a top priority; you remember him, right?”

It takes a moment for that name to register with her, but as soon as it does Veronica nods. And then she realizes that Liam’s still laying down and can’t actually see her gestures. “Yes,” she answers. “He’s the investor you wanted me to look up.”

“Right,” Liam sighs. “In a week and a half, he’ll be here, and I’ve got _nothing_ to give to him. I don’t even know what he’s coming in for either, but I’d still like to be prepared.”

“With all due respect,” Veronica hastily says, really not meaning to sound above her pay grade, “I thought we took care of that?” She’d given Liam all of the information she could dig up on the man, thought their conversation dealing with him had been enough for Liam to go off of. But apparently it wasn’t, and now Veronica’s feeling a little put off at the fact that maybe she’d slacked at her job, hadn’t been thorough enough for Liam’s sake. “I could pull some stuff for you again, if that’s what you need?”

Eventually, Liam sits up. His suit looks wrinkled, but there’s no attention paid to it. Veronica’s boss scratches at his forehead and looks about ready to doze off. “No, what you gave me is perfectly fine. It’s finding a way to implement it into something useful is the problem. I’ve been so off the mark lately.”

The shake of his head indicates that he can’t believe that, that something like this is becoming increasingly hard for him to handle. Veronica doesn’t know if he categorizes Marcel’s project as a semi-failure either, but there’s a part of the other man in the room that looks nearly defeated, as if he can’t figure out what the hell is wrong with himself.

“Thing is, I can’t take it to anyone else. Either they’re busy, or they’ve got their own work to do, and I’d rather not force anyone in here with me. It’s my job, and I should be able to do it.”

Veronica holds her tongue, wants to explain that while her boss has very legitimate points, everyone has off days. Stress can do a number on a person, but because she’s not privy to his life outside of the office, who knows what’s going on behind closed doors as well. It makes sense for him to carry the weight of this on his shoulders.

“How important is this?” she finds herself asking. From her research, she’s known that yes, indeed, Mr. Wilson is an investor in the company, one of many that holds a stock piece, who could sell, back out, or simply wish to cut ties with a large company such as Source Lion. Mainly, it happens when there’s a loss of profit, or confliction between board members. It’s not uncommon, but it’s highly unusual, especially since there have been no whispers profit margins being down in the first place. However, Veronica’s not too sure of Liam’s job, all that it requires, and how this potential meeting might end up affecting them all in the long run. Should she be worried for Liam alone, for the company, for herself?

Liam stands up from the couch, and while he seems unsure about what he should do with himself, he heads over to his desk. From there, Liam pulls open a drawer, digs through it until he’s found what he’s looking for: a bottle of ibuprofen for the headache that’s apparently doing him in. “If Mr. Wilson is coming in to discuss the potential chance of wanting to leave, not only will the company take a hit - one I’ve no doubt they’ll pull back from quickly enough - but my reputation will be tarnished to the point where every eye that glances my way will hold an ounce of wariness at my ability to do my job correctly.” Liam doesn’t swallow the pills dry, opens one of the water bottles on his desk to take a sip before he takes them. “So, how important is this?” The purse of his lips does nothing to deter the gloom that has effectively settled over Liam’s being. The over-the-counter painkillers will do their job in just a moment, and maybe then that’ll take away some of the agitation. “I hate to sound dramatic,” Liam continues, “but it’s quite critical.”

The ball feels like it's in her court, and she know what the right thing to do is. Getting swept up like this is only going to cause damage for Veronica alone, and she figures it's smart not to risk it. Thing is, she's much more inclined to help out because it's kindness, something she hopes will be extended to her in a time of need.

"What if- well, what if I helped you again?" Veronica asks. The worst that can happen is being laughed at, or given a solid no. It's not like she hasn't had or heard much worse. "Dunno what I’d need to be doing, exactly, but I'm here regardless. It’s kind of my job.” She smiles, hopes that maybe knowing someone’s on his side will do her boss a bit of good.

“Brainstorming,” Liam answers. “There’s got to be a presentation that I can bring forth in case it turns out that I’m right. The most I can come up with is pleading, but I’d rather not look desperate.”

It’s not like Veronica has a clue as to what to do either, but there’s got to be something out there they can come up with, either on their own or together. Regardless, she’s set on doing something now that she’s offered, can’t really take that back. On the plus side, it’s more work to focus on. “Could you give me a day or two?” she asks. “Just to think over some ideas, and I can bring them back to you then?”

Liam sits down in his office chair, folds his hands together but does not look intimidating as he probably should be. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I may be your boss, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to take advantage of your hospitality.”

There’s one side of Veronica that personally believes she wouldn’t mind; however, the context is a little skewered and too dirty to be thinking at a time like this. On the other hand, she still doesn’t mind giving that as well; she did offer to help, and two, there’s probably an innate need to torture herself with Liam’s presence. She’s not desperate, but having a bit of a crush will do that to someone. Even if it’s hell on earth, just a little bit of fantasy is enough to suffice.

“You wouldn’t be,” Veronica says, shaking her head. “Not only did I offer, but you’ve been cooped up in here all day. If that’s how this is going to end up until the meeting, then obviously someone needs to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Babysitting?”

Veronica laughs, hoping that maybe it’ll be a little infectious. “If that’s the term you want to use. Although, I think we easily forget that an office may have different positions of importance, but we’re all on the same side here, aren’t we?”

Understanding flashes through Liam’s eyes, and maybe that’s the first time he’s heard something so remotely different in regard to the life of a businessman. Veronica, however, means what she said. Her position may be considered the lowest, closer to the janitorial staff if everyone wants to talk about hierarchy, but even without the little people, what kind of place would they be sitting in now? It’s a foundation that corporations tend to forget, especially when greed and money take over, and while Veronica’s not naive enough to believe that everyone thinks like she does, she wishes it was pretty standard.

Liam’s a CEO, though, so even if he does realize what she’s saying, whether he truly understands it is something else entirely.

“If only we had more people like you working here.”

Veronica chooses not to disagree with him, not for lack of humility, but because she’d rather not start a verbal war of compliments. “I’m sure you do,” she decides to respond with. “Maybe they’re just right under your nose.”

Afterwards, Veronica ends up asking for all of the paperwork she’d given to Liam when she’d been tasked with looking up the investor. There are a slew of doodles on all of the pages as she gathers them up, with Liam blushing and telling her to ignore them because he was just messing about, not at all good at art. But she compliments him on some of them, thinks that they’re fun and worth mentioning even if they’re not perfected for an art gallery. It’s the creativity that matters the most, even if it did come out of boredom.

“I can’t promise I’ll have something for you,” Veronica adds just as she’s about to leave. “But I’m going to try my best.”

Liam seems a lot more relieved; maybe it’s because his workload has lessened considerably for the time being. Veronica hopes it’s out of the thought of finally getting some good rest.

Whatever the case may be, Veronica’s got a job to do now, and that’ll be her center for the next two days.

+

“So, the direction to go in is definitely in favor of things teenage boys like.” Veronica says to Eleanor. "Guy's got a son, so. It makes sense." She’s got to look up from her position on the floor because her friend’s chosen to stay on the couch. It’s definitely more comfortable, but Veronica’s hand writing ideas and sitting closer to the coffee table is easier than reaching over to write. “What that is, I’ve got no clue.”

And it’s not like Eleanor would be much help, not really. She’s a woman and despite her claims that Louis is still a man-child with the way he asks sometimes, he’s proven to be no help whatsoever.

Although, that’s mostly because the boys are busy with a game of cards, beers, and snacks covering the length of the table along with plastic poker chips that make it look like they’ve got no clue what the hell they’re doing. “Just throw in something you liked to do, Veronica. It’s not like you don’t know yourself.”

That’s a fair thing to say coming from Harry. However, Veronica’s quite positive that half the things she was in to then, aren’t what youths are into now. “Right,” she starts, “because last I remember, teenage boys weren’t that into makeup. Let alone the fact that you didn’t fancy putting on any amount yourself, especially after I managed to put lipstick on you when you got drunk and passed out that one time. Nearly chewed me out because the rest of the lads couldn’t stop laughing the next morning.”

Harry manages to flush, which is a rarity all in itself. He usually doesn’t hold himself back. Him and Niall are a lot more alike than anyone else thinks, but Veronica sees it. Louis is more mischief than loud, and Marcel is a doll who takes sides. “No offense against makeup, V, but that was a cruel prank. Still got the pictures. Harry looks right pretty, didn’t he?” Louis snickers and reaches over to pinch his friend’s cheek. His hand is more or less slapped away, but it doesn’t stop the bubble of laughter from Niall to spill out, always taking Louis’ side if he can.

“Shut the fuck up, you twat!”

Veronica draws her attention away from them and finds that Eleanor’s moved to the floor beside her. She’s smirking, a light in her eyes that Veronica’s big enough to joke around about now, a past that’d been difficult to go through at the time.

“They’re imbeciles,” she proceeds to say. “You’re probably not going to get a proper answer from them. Have you searched for stuff online?”

She clicks her tongue, sets down her pen and leans against the bottom half of the couch. “Sort of, I guess. Thing is, the company has a myriad of products available. Finding something enticing is going to be difficult. What can you do to bribe someone to stay if they’ve got the world at their fingertips?” The purse of her lips indicates her frustration, and it’s no wonder Liam had been doing the same. “Like, this guy is _loaded_. He can buy anything he wants, and we’re supposed to have an ingenious plan to get him to stick around. It’s ridiculous.”

“You said you offered to do this, didn’t you?” Marcel speaks up from across the room.

The rest of the boys have settled down now, back to their game, and trying to win what little money there is. Both Veronica and Eleanor don’t see the point, but they let them have at it. Whatever entertains them is fine by them. “I did,” Veronica agrees.

“That’s probably your main problem then,” Harry adds.

Veronica silences him with a glare, but he only shrugs.

“What?” he asks, sitting up in his seat and leaning over the table. It doesn’t make him any closer to her, but it does mean he’s going to further add to the conversation. “All I’m saying is you can’t complain too much here, V. You decided to help out when _Liam_ didn’t even ask you.”

There’s bitterness on his tongue, which Veronica doesn’t understand. But it’s not needed. So, she narrows her eyes, crosses her arms and decides to spit back, “Yeah, I did. It’s not only called ‘doing my job,’ but it’s being a nice person.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Sounds to me like you did it more for attention.”

And that makes everyone freeze up. Harry’s not had much of an issue with anything Veronica’s done before, but something is eating at him if this is the direction he’s decided to go in with her. “Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just like it sounds,” he replies. “You’re too busy worried about other people but yourself.”

At this point, Veronica’s just plain confused. Isn’t that called human decency? “Harry, where is this coming from?” It’s made the room tense, and nothing like it should be. Although, the lads are trying their best to continue on with their game.

“It’s nothing,” he says, and before anyone knows it, he’s out of his seat, grabbing his jacket and heading out the door.

Veronica watches him leave, here and then gone the next. It doesn’t make sense, and she looks to the other boys who’re all looking down at the table, avoiding eye contact. “Someone better start talking.”

“Just give him some time, Veronica. I’m sure he’ll come around,” Niall says.

But that’s not good enough for her. So, she gets up, completely ignores Eleanor’s grip on her wrist in favor of taking Harry’s place at the table. She leaves his cards be, not wanting to touch them in case he does decide to come back to join them. He’s probably just out in the hallway, or at least walking around the premises. He very rarely storms off, and if he were to do so, it’d be because of a bigger argument than this.

It’s obvious now that Niall won’t give anything away, and Louis is pretty much a loud mouth, but Veronica knows who to turn to for this. Harry’s dear brother has a hard time keeping secrets as of late, and there’s no reason he wouldn’t do it again now. “Go on,” Veronica prods.

Marcel looks caught between a rock and a hard place, especially with the way his teeth chew at his lip. “He’s just upset, V. That’s all.”

“Bullshit.”

Again, the lad looks torn between loyalty between his twin and a friend he’s known all his life. So, he sighs, shoulders dropping before he gives it away. “He’s just upset that you didn’t come talk to him, really. About what’s going on at the office, and then on top of that, you’ve been busy. I think he’s feeling a little lost.”

Veronica snorts. “When has Harry _not_ been lost? Boy doesn’t know what he wants for himself, let alone-”

Marcel looks taken aback by those words, and he looks upset about it too. “Veronica,” he cuts her off. “He’s not doing very well.”

“Well, that’s a bit obvious.”

The other lad pushes the glasses up on his face, looking sternly at Veronica and foregoing the cards in his hands in favor of gesturing. “And you’re the reason. Regardless of how unfair that sounds, it’s the truth, and I know you’ve put off talking to him about it.”

She knows what he’s talking about, but they have, in fact, discussed it. It’s been a couple of years, maybe, but they did have a talk about Harry and what he felt. Veronica figured that he’d get over it soon enough, but it seems like that’s not the case. “He knows, Marcel. He does, and you can’t expect me to coddle him because of it. I love him, too, just not in the way he wants. I can’t give him that.”

Being this honest in front of a group of people isn’t very rare. See, with Veronica having to change herself to the person she wanted to be, it took trust, being honest, and open about pretty much everything that was going on within her head. The vulnerability was the scariest aspect because she directly put herself out there to be humiliated and ridiculed. Of course, that did happen. More often than it should’ve, but she’s also learned to deal with things by talking, regardless of who’s in the room.

Niall and Louis, although they’d joined their group a little later on in life, were no strangers to Harry’s dilemma as far as Veronica was concerned. It’d been a little obvious, and while it hadn’t done anything to make everyone’s friendship awkward, it did pull on their heartstrings. Two people in a tug of war, who are best friends, no less, is a lot more difficult to handle. Taking sides often happens too, but more than anything, it’s a battle of empathy towards both Harry and Veronica.

This is not a place she had ever hoped to be in with anyone. And it's not like she doesn't care about Harry either because she does. It’s just growing increasingly hard to deal with his behavior knowing that she’s a symptom rather than a cause.

“Then maybe you need to talk to him _again_ ,” Marcel insists. “There’s only so much I can do for him, and you know how he’s getting. He’s still Harry, but he’s just different, and I’d like my brother back in one piece. I’m sure there’s other shit going on he’s not telling us, but if he’s going to talk about it with anyone, it’d be you.”

Marcel leaves it at that, and Veronica doesn’t know whether she should be frustrated with that or just plain angry. As unfair as it is to have Marcel make her take responsibility for Harry’s reactions, she knows it’s better to do something now rather than later. Later will only result in someone getting hurt far worse than necessary, and this is coming from her perspective of things in general. Even if it all ends up settled with his feelings towards her, it doesn’t change the fact that Harry’s coping habits have long since passed desperate.

Veronica doesn’t say another word as she takes her place on the floor again with Eleanor at her side. She smiles at her friend, showing El that she’s okay, that she’s not bothered as much as one would assume. It’s probably a bit unfortunate that she’s tasked with handling Harry about his issues; after all, Harry’s got a twin brother and three other best friends aside from Veronica.

However, she’s the only one who knows him best, and finding the time to sit down and talk to him is going to take some time and possibly a little planning.

Besides, Veronica owes him. Harry had cornered her in the bathroom to prattle on with advice, and now it’s her turn to do the same.

+

It’s two days later, and just as Veronica promised, she thinks she has a plan that might just be to Liam’s liking. What he’s looking for in order to persuade Mr. Wilson is Veronica’s shot in the dark, but she’s confident enough that’ll it work out. Part of it relies on outside resources, which may issue a problem with her idea if it’s rejected, but it’s been the only thing she’d been able to come up with.

Finding out that Mr. Wilson had a son had done no favors to herself nor Eleanor who’d stayed over the weekend in order to help her. The boys were no help either, and with Harry and Veronica already on tight terms, it just meant that her resources were low and no proper collaboration could happen.

The thing is, it’s nearly time for Veronica to clock out, go home and settle onto the couch for the night in order to relax, but Liam hasn’t shown up. There’d been a brief message at about eleven from him, claiming something had come up, hadn’t mentioned what or given Veronica notice that he’d have to postpone their joint project.

Which sucks because it only gives Veronica more time to study over her words, figuring she might have to present this to him in such a neat way that’ll gain his attention. More than likely, Liam’s not looking for a presentation, might just make her sit down and give it to him straight, but her ideas come from logic rather than too much creativity, and sometimes that’s always been a problem.

At this point, it’s staring at the clock on her computer and counting down the moment until she gets to leave. Normally she’s off at five, but she makes sure everything’s prepared - the schedule is up-to-date, sticky notes safe in her desk with reminders of office supplies that need to be taken care of, what kind of calls she’s going to be expecting - before she leaves.

And maybe she’s cursed herself with that train of thought, with dying for the clock to change so it’ll bring her closer to being finished for the day, because as soon as it’s nearly five, the elevator dings and out steps Liam Payne looking a little disheveled and not at all put together like he normally is.

He’s got on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt; however, Veronica’s never known him to show up in nothing but a suit and tie.

“Kind of slept in,” Liam mentions as he heads to Veronica’s desk. “Then thought about coming in, and I think the daunting task of work put me off.”

Veronica tries her best not to frown, wanting so desperately to show her annoyance with Liam’s timing, and the fact that his excuse is bullshit. Well, there’s probably truth to it, no doubt, but no one else really gets that luxury in the office - of skipping out because they didn’t feel like it. It means fewer hours, less money. Business is very impractical with that.

“Well, I’m glad you could make it at half past,” Veronica glances down to the computer before drawing her eyes back to Liam, “four in the afternoon.”

And either Liam already feels guilty for his actions, or he picks up on the secretary’s annoyance because he ducks his head and scratches at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, really,” he says sheepishly. “I know we have that thing today, and it kind of slipped my mind-”

Veronica, well, she’s still on the clock anyway so who is she to complain that they could’ve had an entire day to work on this and move it out of the way? Liam was the one worried about it in the first place, not her, so it only serves him right to apologize. She’s not going to feel bad about that. “I should scold you for keeping me hanging, but I suppose it worked out in the end.” She shrugs, gathers together a folder before standing up. “I managed to get some stuff out of the way. It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you actually make the effort to get things taken care of.”

So, maybe it’s not the best choice of words because Liam does flinch. Veronica hadn’t intended for that to be a direct dig at Liam, rather she actually _had_ manage to knock off a few things on her list, which included reordering ink and paper for the printers.

“You’ll be happy to know, though,” Veronica holds out the folder to Liam, “that I think I managed to come up with something useful.”

“Could we go over it now?” Liam asks as he takes Veronica’s handout. He sets it onto the top of the desk, shuffling through the contents of it before glancing up through his eyelashes. “It shouldn’t take long, will it?”

That’s where Veronica clicks her tongue. “Actually, I’m going to go clean out the coffee pot in the break room because no one else does it, otherwise I get to hear everyone bitching in the morning when it’s not ready to use. Then,” Veronica says while using her hands as she talks, “I’m going to pack up my stuff and leave because like it or not, I’m off in about twenty, and I’m not really one of those people who fancies staying overtime unless it’s urgent.” The smile that graces her face is hopefully one full of sympathy as Liam looks a bit dejected. “Just look over it,” she instructs. “A lot of it’s what I’d already shown you before, but that recurring theme of weird investments is a major point of interest. Guy’s got a kid, Mr. Payne. Long story short, we’re going to appeal to him.”

After that, Veronica leaves Liam there. He doesn’t protest, and he doesn’t call out to her as she walks away from her station to go do exactly as she told him she would. Today’s just been one of those days where her carefree attitude is resting heavily on her shoulders, and she’s hoping to find some solace from that as soon as she leaves the building.

With this task, she takes her time, pouring out the coffee, wanting to give Liam a head start so that they don’t cross paths again. Normally, she’d be eager to see him, but having already been irritated by the events of the past couple of hours, the lack of desire sits under a heavy blanket of rushing emotions she’s just trying to stamp down.

As soon as Veronica’s done with that little task, she does, indeed, head back to her desk to gather her things. Liam is nowhere in sight, but it’s not difficult to miss the way his office is brightly lit. She can’t see inside, not with the windows made specifically to keep out unwanted onlookers, but she knows that he’ll be there for a little longer than normal. Even if Veronica’s having one of those days, there’s a sudden feeling, like a gaping hole in her stomach, that makes her wonder if Liam’s having one of them bad days, too.

+

The way that Liam bites his lip should be outlawed. He’s chewing on it and looking so incredibly nervous that all Veronica wants to do is take his hand and tell him to calm down.

He’d gone over her papers, understanding of her request, but so far, he’s only been pacing, rambling and trying to come up with a good strategy to present it with.

“Run it by me one more time,” he pleads, hands clasped together where Liam rubs them, as if he’s trying to pull back warmth into his limbs. “Please.”

Veronica doesn’t protest or huff that she’s already gone over this before. However, his anxiety is starting to creep over her, too, and maybe it’d do them both a bit of good if she spoke. There’s no doubt that it’ll take Liam’s mind off of his thoughts, and only have Veronica cringe at the sound of her voice.

So, she shakes her head, directs Liam to his seat by pointing at it before beginning. “We’ve learned that Mr. Wilson’s investments don’t add up, especially with his age. Which mean’s he’s got a kid, a boy.”

Liam places his hands directly on top of the table, possibly using that as an anchor to keep him settled and calm. The wood of the table may not be able to absorb his energy, but Veronica knows that feeling all too well, just wanting something stable and solid to keep from floating away. “Right, got it.”

“From there, it’s in our best interest to appeal to the kid. Not directly!” Veronica points. “Because then this guy will know exactly what we’re doing. It’s what you said before, wasn’t it? Manipulating but not.”

There’s a knowing look in Liam’s eyes, one that probably identifies with the surprise that Veronica had actually listened to him all those days ago. It’s something that Veronica makes a little mental note of, not to use for later or anything of the sort, but to, at the very least, think about. It can’t be that surprising that someone listened to this man speak. Liam does hold a powerful position, which means he’s able to garner attention and hold people’s interest.

“What comes next is going to depend on our ability to gain a third party willing to go through with this and a possible payout because I doubt they’ll do it for free-”

“Unless we’re promoting one of their products,” Liam adds.

But Veronica’s quick to wave him off. “That still involves some kind of money, doesn’t it?”

The words quickly register with Liam, and he looks a bit rueful of his mistake, but it’s nothing big, and Veronica doesn’t give him time to dwell on it. She’s becoming increasingly aware that Liam pinpoints his mistakes and makes use of them, to either better himself or use it against his own being.

She’s not close enough to him to tell Liam to cut it out, so the next best thing she can do at the moment is to keep the conversation rolling, keep him focused on the task at hand. “We’ll get the kid to come in, probably skip the tour of the office because this is no Marvel, but we can let him do something, be apart of the creative process for a future product, maybe one that needs a revamp.”

“You understand how risky this could be?” Liam suddenly asks. He’s sitting properly now, a lot more relaxed than he was just a moment ago. It’s definitely a good thing, but his word choice does nothing to relieve the ache that’s already attached itself onto Veronica.

“Investing in a kid’s imagination, or…” And the rest doesn’t slip off her tongue like it ought to, but the unspoken words are there, left heavy enough for Liam to pick up on with ease.

“That and how we’re going to go about presenting this. Plus,” Liam adds, “getting someone else to sign onto it, too. We’ve got an endless list of creators that might be looking for fresh ideas, but who’s to say they’re going to go for this as well? Bringing in someone with no experience isn’t exactly a rarity but-”

“We’ll find someone,” Veronica reassures him, realizing that despite his demeanor, Liam’s _still_ worrying, and more than anything at this point, she wants to prove him wrong. “Get me a list of people you think might give us a chance, and I’ll get on it. I’ll make some calls on your behalf, if that’s okay?”

Liam turns his gaze downwards and whether he’s thinking of an answer, it’s difficult to tell. The resources are there, and Veronica knows exactly the direction she needs to go in now; she just may need a little help on who her target audience is, but she’s not a secretary just because she handles everyone’s unwanted business, no. Her area of expertise is handling the phones and appointments, finding information and being polite to complete strangers, sometimes assholes too, who chose to get in contact with the company. It’s multitasking, something that took practice to manage, but with a project like this, it doesn’t seem half as bad as what it really sounds like.

Then again, she’s not Liam, and she’s not the one who’ll have to be convincing enough for a very important man. Being in that position might kind of suck a little, or a lot.

“Let me-” Liam begins, holding up a hand before he gathers what he wants to say. “Let me gather a list together of potential business partners that might help us, and we’ll split the work so it’s even. You call half the list, and I’ll have the other. Sound fair?”

He’s sounds ready, like a goal has been set, and now’s the time to implement it. Veronica thinks that this might be the man in the meetings, completely serious and determined to show his worth. It makes her agreement easier to say, helps the attitude of the afternoon shift into something positive when they both take an end of the conference room, enough distance for them to make phone calls and give each other thumbs up or down when they’ve managed to make their way through the list Liam had compiled.

And while each set is not very long, having different partners broken up into groups of two so it’s an easier task for Veronica and Liam, it doesn’t make the dirty work all that easier when some don’t answer, some are closed, and quite a few are on their lunch break. Categories are placed as a result though, the yes’ and the no’s, and the maybe’s and the definitely not’s.

It makes it simple and quick, the outside world becoming nonexistent save for their two voices and subtle encouragements. The time, however, goes quickly. Even with the breaks they’d pardoned themselves with, and the coffee Veronica felt entitled to supply, Liam bowed out early and wished her a good day, that maybe they could pick this up again soon to narrow down a handful of more companies.

Veronica, though, she stays a little later than normal. No longer using the phone because of the time; she instead gathers their information and sorts it to her liking. A neat freak, she never was, but professional.

That’s her excuse, at least, even when Marcel ducks into the conference room at six thirty to see if she’s wrapped up her responsibilities for the day. While she gives him a resounding _no_ , the look on his face (more than a little disappointed), well, she knew how obvious she was being, and the avoidance she’d so clearly announced did nothing in her favor.

Marcel leaving shouldn’t’ve been a big deal, even after he’d told her to please get home safely if she was so determined to work into the night. And Veronica agreed then; she had, but the tension from home, well, she hadn’t expected it to find its way into her little bubble of freedom at the office.

+

So, as it turns out, staying late at the office might’ve been a very bad idea. Veronica likes her sleep, likes it a lot despite the early call of her alarm every morning, which manages to wake her up in time to get ready and not be late. But on this very bright, sunny day, she’s running behind, and it’s an accumulation of a lot of things. Obviously, it stems from not sleeping well; after getting home she’d just decided to busy herself because her mind had decided to take a different route she’d intended and race with thoughts and mindless shit that shouldn’t be thought about so late at night.

The kitchen’s spotless now. So is the living room. Only, Harry’s the exception to the cleanliness because he’d come home at three in the morning, already drunk off his ass. Sobering him up was not a possibility, but Veronica made him drink a glass of water just after he’d made it to the restroom in time to empty his stomach. She’d managed to tuck him into bed before slumping down on the carpet and sitting there, listening to the sounds of his even breathing. For the moment, things might be rough for them, but knowing he’s here made the tension in her shoulders give way to the tiredness that’d settled into her bones.

She’d woken up with a shake to her shoulder, though, a sleepy Harry looking at her with confusion. Veronica had been just as confused until she realized that her throat was dry, and she’d fallen asleep pressed up against the bed frame in Harry’s room, head pillowed on the side of the mattress.

Now that she’s at the office, more than a little disheveled, she wonders what kind of train wreck she’d looked like then and what she looks like now.

Although, it doesn’t take too long to find out because there’s a few people that step out of the elevator, Veronica sitting up straighter at her desk and trying her best to look awake and chipper.

She overdoes it; no one needs to tell her when people glance at her and the very looks she receives are ones of concern.

“If you don’t mind me saying, you look a little-”

Veronica quirks an eyebrow as Liam approaches. He’s dressed professionally, looks put together, and there’s a part of her that’s completely envious of that. Granted, Liam had left the office at a normal time, and probably spent a few more hours sleeping than she had, but knowing he’s got no bags under his eyes from lack of sleep only makes Veronica wish she felt like he looked.

Whether Veronica’s look cuts Liam off, she’s not certain, or maybe he’d been going for a sentence that might’ve come off as offensive, but he refrains and clears his throat, redirecting his words to something more suitable. “-a little tired, maybe?” And he openly cringes, like that was something that sounded better in his head than it did out loud.

It’s not something Veronica’s really okay with, but she can give him a mental pat on the back for realizing that maybe he just completely fucked that up. So, to be nice, she avoids the snarky comment to make a joke out of it instead. “Well,” she tilts her head with a smile, “not everyone has the luxury of stepping into the office looking as handsome as you.”

And it probably takes a good ten seconds before Veronica realizes exactly what she’s said. Like, it’s fine, she guesses, maybe. Not really. Handsome is something she can identify with, would _like_ to identify with on the occasion that she feels the remnants of Zayn reappear, wants to be referred to _he_ rather than _she_. But in this situation, that doesn’t really apply, so she can’t brush it off as a simple compliment amongst men; no, she gets to sit here wide-eyed and berating herself for calling her boss good looking without this turning into a spectacle.

More or less, she’s flustered, and it’s so very easy to pick up on Liam knowing that.

“That was completely out of-”

But Liam, bless his soul, just smiles. The blush on his cheeks is a nice rosy pink, and he looks away, possibly due to not knowing what to do just yet.

Veronica, though, she gathers herself, feeling a lot more alert now that a rush of adrenaline has coursed through her body. It’s not often she makes a fool out of herself like this, not when she keeps to herself and her group of friends, but boy when she does it, she sure does go all out.

She wants to make amends, hoping that Liam’s not upset in any way. Of course, most might take it as a simple compliment, but Veronica’s not willing to take any more risks with being too forward. Not just for her sake, but that of Liam’s, and the off chance that it could be seen as harassment. Going through something like that once before has made her keep her caution (which, by the way, wasn’t her fault in the first place. Veronica had literally done nothing to the kid. He’d been a homophobic asshole who made shit up in school when they’d been stuck in a group project).

“Like, yes, um. Good looking.” And then she snaps her fingers and scrunches her nose, already feeling defeat rise up into her chest. “No!” she gives. “I mean, like, you know how you look, obviously. You walking into the office, not everyone has a chance to look as smart as you, right.” Which, despite her best efforts, Veronica can’t shut her goddamn mouth, and with every word that slips out, she can feel herself digging a deeper hole, one she hopes will swallow her up so she can remove herself quickly. Might not save her from facing her boss later, but it’ll certainly take her out of this moment. “Smart as in, you know, cleaned up, though. Not that you’re not smart, like, intelligent kind of smart. Obviously you are, otherwise I doubt you’d be working here.”

Veronica groans and does her best to avoid Liam’s gaze, the one he brought back to her just a few moments ago when she’d found herself spilling out endless excuses for her original statement that did nothing but incriminate her more.

Because she can’t bring herself to look up and face her reality, finally deciding to just leave everything alone, silence her best option at this point, Veronica misses the way that Liam smiles down at her, a little dopey, with his cheeks still flushed, and so adorable that one would think he was an actually puppy.

“You think so?”

Veronica eventually brings her eyes back up to Liam’s, looking through her glasses and hoping that he’s not really pissed or weirded out.

She’s surprised to find that he’s not.

“I-” And what is she supposed to say to that? She can give a simple _yes_ , but that seems like a risk, especially since Veronica doesn’t know what he’s looking for. To tease her, maybe? To end up scoffing at the fact that yeah, she admires him a little (or a lot, but that’ll be a secret kept safe with her, thank you)? “Um, yes?” she says as she smiles weakly.

Liam’s face breaks out into an even wider grin, eyes crinkled at the corners, looking so much younger than a man of his age and caliber. It’s hard not to have anxiety or any kind of hate towards him, especially when he’s kind and hasn’t done a damn thing to belittle Veronica in her time of utter embarrassment.

“Intelligent,” Liam hums. “I think that’s a first.”

The sincerity there startles Veronica as she slowly begins to understand what’s happening here. While she’d been afraid of being poked fun at, it turns out that Liam’s taken what she’s said as more than a compliment, maybe something like a surprise that she’s noticed anything about him at all. Which, to be honest, is weird. Why wouldn’t Liam know these things? Modesty aside here, everyone should have a little bit of knowledge of their accomplishments, the things they’re good at, and with Liam repeating Veronica’s sentiments, she gets the feeling that he doesn’t really think that about himself.

Either that or he’s never been associated with those kinds of words before.

“It’s the truth,” Veronica replies. She’s adamant when she says it, makes sure that Liam’s looking at her and that she’s not just being silly. Liam doesn’t need any kind of validation from Veronica, and to be honest, maybe she shouldn’t be giving it, but if there’s one thing she’s going to do, it’s own up to what she believes without any regard that Liam might turn it around on her. He still has a chance to do so, but as much as the cards are in Liam’s hands, they’re in Veronica’s, too.

The game’s been turned into something completely different.

“I don’t doubt that you believe it.”

“You should too.”

And that little bit of reassurance, well, Veronica feels proud, likes the way that Liam feels grateful before bowing out and wanting to get to work.

The rest of the day, there’s a shift in the air. It’s not like it’d been yesterday, even after they’d been supportive of one another, no. Today’s different because even with Veronica’s lack of sleep, she feels the energy in the air. It also helps that for the first time in what feels like forever, Veronica can honestly say that Liam’s finally bounced back from his misery concerning his personal life. He’s grounded and willing to put in the effort to finish out the rest of the lists, looking over what Veronica had stayed late at the office for (a compilation of potential companies that have, so far, said yes).

And the lunch he’d bought later in the day, the one he’d surprised her with, felt genuine and humbled, a thanks for the help she’d originally offered.

Relaxed is the word that comes to mind during that time. It’s good to finally feel that again, and Veronica’s no doubt that Liam thinks so, too.

+

When it’s nearing Veronica’s time to clock out, she’s still sat in Liam’s office looking over what they’ve been able to accomplish so far. There are only so many hours in a day, but they’ve managed to use them wisely.

Maybe it’s made them a little more confident, especially Liam with the way he’s more thrilled about the plan. However, it’s good to know that they’re on the right track. And that’s proved when Liam had asked her a mere ten minutes ago if she’d be willing to stay for at least another thirty minutes, hoping to squeeze in a bit more work - the outline of the presentation, at least - before they called it a day.

So, it’s why she’s here instead of the conference room, trying to make a thin outline of possible topics. She’ll go from there, putting them in order so that it might be easier for Liam to transition into particular subjects. Veronica’s never had to give a presentation before, and she’d warned Liam about that, but as she prattles off the potential topics, Liam guides her along, dismissing some of her ideas while agreeing with others.

It doesn’t take long to come up with the conversation involving the offer. That’s easy and a given, but Liam had said it’s important to gain Mr. Wilson’s attention by welcoming him, the introduction needed to dazzle the pants off of him (metaphorically, Liam had said, wouldn’t want to subject himself to that piece of business). After that, there needed to be a hook, line, and sinker.

It’s when they’re lost in thought that Liam gets a call. Most of the office has drifted on home by now, Marcel even finding her until she’d told him she’d be home within the hour.

When Veronica’s boss answers, it’s loud, voice unfazed until his entire demeanor changes, softens. The tone lowers, and he pardons himself from Veronica’s presence to his desk, clicking a few things on his computer as a smile reaches his face.

She doesn’t miss the term of endearment that flows off his tongue, a quiet _babe_ , and _I’ll see you in a bit_. Veronica could very well be misinterpreting the exchange, and she has no reason to find rejection flowing through her veins, but it happens anyway.

Liam’s soon off the phone, and at this point, Veronica’s gathered papers into a pile, makes her way to his desk to set them there so they’re ready for tomorrow, and Liam, bless him, has the nerve to look sheepish.

Veronica stands there on the other side of the desk, wanting to laugh at what it resembles in her life, a barrier and a reminder that she will always be on the other side of what she wants. She’d gotten her way when she’d declared herself genderqueer, and she’d gotten an education to help move her along in life. But the reality is that some things aren’t easy to accomplish. They aren’t mountains that anyone can climb simply because they belong to someone else.

She’s never had a chance, and Veronica had known that for as long as she’d been working here. Even now she knows the possibility of a relationship that she’s convinced just might work is completely nonexistent. It’d been nice while it lasted, stuck in an alternate reality where Liam was happy and single, where he wasn’t dating a complete airhead that used him.

Veronica knows the process, has seen it countless times. Over and over and over again, and while she hadn’t thought it’d be different this time around, maybe she’d been hoping that Liam would postpone meeting someone new.

“My girlfriend,” Liam says while smiling, unbeknownst to him that Veronica already knew that. She didn’t need a confirmation, but it’s there when Liam shrugs and pockets his phone, looking like a man who’s gotten into a recent relationship, the honeymoon phase. “Gotta cut this short if it’s alright with you?”

It’s funny how he seeks her approval on this, a major aspect of the company like himself doesn’t need her permission. He’s above her, isn’t he? He shouldn’t need to explain.

As she exits the office, leaving behind the _it’s okay_ she’d given, Veronica realizes her mistake too late.

She’d made the assumption that Liam had been restored, happy to be over the frustration and sadness that came with any relationship that had ended. But it hadn’t been that; no, far from it. It’d been due, in part, to the fact that Liam had definitely moved on, but with another girl. A rebound, possibly, or maybe just another woman who managed to catch his attention.

Veronica hates that she’s going to do this, but she’ll count how long this lasts. Her lack of faith in Liam and his relationships probably shows her unrealistic expectations, wanting to be _the one_ that Liam might possibly notice. But what makes this any different than the last? It’s not nice to be so pessimistic and cruel towards unfamiliarity, but it’s got a tight hold on her heart, to the point where Veronica just wants to tell Liam she told him so.

She never would though. Veronica would never purposely do anything to cause Liam any kind of distress like that, but for once she hopes that someone comes along and puts him out of his misery, show him exactly what he deserves rather than what he’s been receiving. It’s about time that some luck come his way because if Veronica can’t be the one to do it, _someone_ needs to.

+

Brainstorming with more than one person always ends with a result. Whether it’s good or bad is up for debate, but Veronica’s pretty positive that what they’ve created is something to be proud of. Liam will give a presentation; he’ll present the investor with facts and throw in their bargaining chip, cross some fingers, and hope for the best.

She’s no doubt it’ll be hit, but that doesn’t stop Liam from being nit picky. She lets him though; it’s no bother to her. The way he shuffles through papers and whispers under his breath might cause some type of imbalance with her ability to pay attention to her own work. Rather, it’s a comfort, though, to be able to let him work on his own while she gets the opportunity to sketch some stuff.

Honestly, she should be at her desk, but Liam had called her in and claimed he wanted her there just in case he had questions. Veronica’s not sure that’s entirely the truth, but she’s given him the benefit of the doubt and taken advantage of the free time.

Veronica also made Leeroy take over her position at the desk. The poor thing looking completely dazed at all the blinking red lights on the phone and the calendar full of stuff on the computer, but she’d told him not to worry about it. Just answer the phone, see what the person on the other end wants, and then make a decision from there.

Very professional, she knows.

The time of day is lost, only made known when her pen gives out and leaves behind spotted ink. Veronica frowns and goes back over her intended words so that maybe she hadn’t looked overzealous with spelling. However, the pen doesn’t even supply its liquid, which leaves Veronica in a bit of a rut. She runs her thumb underneath the ball of the pen, hoping that maybe the small indentions of her fingerprint will rotate the sphere.

That doesn’t do a lick of good, so she ends up shaking it.

Of course, her luck’s about to run out one of these days, and _of course_ it’d hit her in the form of a lousy pen. There’s nothing else available, though, so she’s forced to shake it again, scribbling on her paper, running it over her hand, running it over the paper again in a larger circle that leaves nothing behind.

And then there’s a cough (albeit a bit exaggerated) that has Veronica’s eyes widening. Her pen, that had been in her hand because she figured she’d give it one last go with gravity, falls from her hand - flies is more like it, but she’s trying to save some of her dignity here - and bounces off the table, falling onto the other side of the furniture she’s sitting at.

“Problem?” Liam asks.

Veronica knows she shouldn’t look, but she does anyway and finds that Liam looks amused. He looks like he’s trying to retain a laugh, and that only has her flustered all the more given she probably just looked like an idiot.

To save face, Veronica licks her lips and neatly shuffles her paper into a nice stack. “Pen’s rubbish,” she replies. She’s avoiding his gaze, knowing it’s fully on her. It’s not hard to tell when she’s gained someone’s attention. She suspects it’s better this than something worse, however. “I buy shit pens, apparently.” And then she clicks her tongue and decides to refine that statement. “Actually… technically, I don’t buy the pens. The company does, but being the assistant and all...” She rolls her wrist as if that might help with her explanation.

Having the courage to finally look her boss’ way - more of a side-eye kind of thing than actually turning her head - she only finds Liam’s head cocked to the side, sitting back in his seat as if he’s heard a very interesting piece of information. “Is that so?” It’s not really difficult to tell whether he’s upset at Veronica’s comment given that he still looks intrigued. “You realize this is my office? I bought that pen.” He gestures to said pen with his hand regardless of it’s current position on the ground. It’s a general kind of movement, an indication because they both know what he’s referring to without having said object in plain sight.

Veronica pales, mouth faltering that definitely gives away the fact that she knows she slipped up with her previous comment. So, she grapples for words, wonders if it’s appropriate to suck up to the boss and if that’ll get her back into his good graces. However, the longer she looks at Liam, the less anger she sees. He’s not on a thin line of pretending to be amused at her expensive, only to blow up a second or two later, either. Rather, she uses it to her advantage, the corner of her mouth finding itself within the curve of a half smile. “Oh,” she nods, crossing her arms and leaning forward on the table. “Well, they suck.” And she adds in a shrug, an exaggeration so that Liam understands that two can play the same game. “Do better.”

Liam falters, paper in hand and mouth slightly parted. It gives Veronica enough time to think that _maybe_ she crossed a line (again); although, and as the seconds tick by, the smile that graces Liam’s face lights up his entire being.

And then he’s laughing, and it’s probably the most glorious thing Veronica has ever heard. She’s got to mask her surprise with a smile of her own, one that pulls so tightly at her cheeks that they hurt because just _seeing_ Liam this happy is not anything she’s ever been privy too; at least, not because of her doing. Sure, she’s seen him around the office, joking with other employees, but to be on this end of it is an entirely new experience.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Liam nods, bites his lip in order to keep back any more laughter. It doesn’t help because the sparkle in his eye still shines through. “Out of curiosity, though” Liam continuous, tilting his head to the side, “what kind of pens do you prefer?”

Veronica shrugs and purses her lips. It’s not that she has qualifications for pens, per se. Although, she’d just like it if they actually worked. “Being able to continue writing without having to make myself bleed or rip paper is always good.”

“But specifics. C’mon,” her boss urges, “you decided to insult me, so I think it’s only fair that you tell me how I can do better. After all,” those thick eyebrows raise before Liam releases the paper in his hands, “it’s me that should be working for you and not the other way around, isn’t it?”

And she’s not afraid to start a very unimportant topic of conversation. It really is stupid when she thinks about it, but she’s not letting herself get that far ahead of herself because if she does, it’ll end this… this _whatever_ is going on between the two of them, and Veronica’s not ready to let go of that just yet.

So, Veronica gets out of her seat and crosses the room to Liam’s desk. Next to his computer, there’s a penholder, and she rummages through the few that are in there until she picks out one that will suffice in explaining just how terrible the pen situation in the office is now. (And even if this is a dumb conversation, this is definitely based on some truth. The pens _are_ crap, so she might as well throw it out there while she can).

“This is a nice pen. I’m not an expert, though,” she starts, holding it up for Liam to see as she walks back to her seat. “It’s sleek, the grip is firm, and I bet it costs more than the dollar fifty those plastic ones do.” As soon as she sits down, she presses the pen to paper and writes down the next word she’d left off on just moments ago. “See?” She waves a hand over the paper. “It works.”

Liam looks skeptical with his brows furrowed and humor resting just at the edge of his eyes. She knows what he’s thinking, that she can’t be serious, and for the most part, she’s not. Veronica figures he’ll let it go now and get back to work; however, as soon as Veronica puts pen to paper again, fully intending to get back to work, there’s a presence by her side.

And it’s Liam, and Veronica doesn’t know how to deal with that.

His cologne is a heavy scent, something she’s smelled a million times as he’s come into the office (he does pass her desk, after all). She can’t pinpoint what it reminds her off, brain a little loose and unwired with Liam so near.

Especially when he leans over to snatch the pen out of her hand, Veronica having stalled the moment she knew he was so close. “Besides its’ looks and the fact that it’s working at the moment,” Liam emphasis, “what makes this pen so special?”

Veronica pouts when she goes to glance up at him, but Liam’s closer to her than she would’ve imagined. That takes her by surprise, and she’s got to regain herself, mask the astonishment as Liam takes a seat next to her.

He takes her paper, then, Veronica not even paying attention to the fact that her work is out in the open, having not flipped the page over to something clean where her thoughts would remain private. “Well,” she says, tongue running over the front of her teeth, “it’s not cheap.”

“In theory that means quality, but not necessarily.”

“Yes, but I’ve often found that they don’t break and the ink doesn’t leak, so.”

“Familiarity, okay. Sold.” He shrugs, drags the pen across the paper too, but doesn’t go over the work at the top of the page. “Is this what you do at your desk?”

Veronica grimaces, realizing that she definitely should’ve turned the page before Liam got the chance to take the paper from her. “Depends,” she comments. “If you’re planning on firing me for lack of responsibility, then I’d like the chance to defend myself first.”

Liam uses the pen to point at some of the words on the paper. They’re easy words, or so she thinks. Nothing that would stump people if they didn’t have a dictionary around. But as Veronica watches the way that Liam’s eyes scan over the page, she wonders why she’s not grabbing it. Protecting the personal has always been top priority for her, has been her whole life. She argues with herself that either way, it’s too late. Liam’s already read a few lines, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have the ability to stop him from reading it now.

“ _In that hue, she sees him at the back of her eyelids, and it’s the color of her lips when she joins him, at last._ ”

Liam looks funny, confused maybe, and Veronica feels nothing but a lump in her throat.

 _Blue_ , she thinks. The color is blue, her color, the one she’s always felt.

“Death, maybe?”

Veronica blinks to refocus her vision, reaches forward quickly to take the notebook away from Liam. And he looks at her with curious brown eyes; he has no clue that she’s on the midst of shedding a tear. It’s her thoughts, and the translation of them will always be different to every individual, but the fact that he named something so permanent…

“Not exactly,” she decides to say, wants to keep him guessing. “Close, but not quite.”

Liam gives her a smile before he leaves her at her seat, walking around the table and back to his papers. “It’s lovely,” he adds just before he settles down. “Dunno the proper compliments you’re supposed to give someone when it comes to writing. M’not very good at it, but I think you’ve got something, Veronica.”

It’s the only thing she’ll get from him for now, and she feels honored to be respected. There’s something very fragile in the air, and maybe it’s because Liam realized just how open Veronica was with him, or it could be the simple fact that there had been nothing left to say.

Veronica will believe the former because that’s what people do when they like someone - think of the positive. “Oh, Liam?”

Her boss looks a little lost when she calls for him, like he’s zoned out rather than actually gotten back to work, but Veronica’s good. She knows better than to comment, so she nods her head and points. “Can I have that pen back, now?”

Liam looks down at his hand, hadn’t realize it was there, apparently. But that’s okay. He hands it to her with a sheepish smile, a small flush to his cheeks because of his mistake. “Keep it,” he says. “And when it’s time to order more supplies, hopefully you’ll make the better choice?”

That tone is back, the one from before, along with the crook of his brow and the way he looks smug.

Veronica bites back a laugh and nods. “Sure thing, boss. You got it.”

//

_It’s the shade of the sky, and the color of loyalty. It’s the hue of his tie, and the coldness of her hands without his; it’s the shivers in the wind, the faith she has in his return. It’s the color of her tears when they call, and the hardness of her hands when she hangs up the phone. She bathes in it and fills the empty spaces with a pencil shaded with the power she needs to put him to rest. It’s the rest of her life in solidarity, and it’s the openness she looks into at night. In that hue, she sees him at the back of her eyelids, and it’s the color of her lips when she joins him, at last._

+

“I think I can forgive you,” Veronica says as she makes her way into the living room. The bowl of ice cream in her hand is cold, but it’s her favorite, and she’s willing to put up with that for the sake of chocolate chip cookie dough.

Marcel glances away from the tv. The volume on it is low so he would’ve heard her regardless, but he looks a little out of it, like his head is in another place. “That’s good to know, then,” he murmurs.

Veronica takes a seat next to him, cautious of his mood since she stumbled out of her bedroom from changing out of her work clothes. She should be having dinner, but there’s a chill that creeps over the flat, and she’d rather bury herself within the cushions of the couch and the extra pillows. “I didn’t properly forgive you; so, I figured I’d do it now.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m in your good graces again.”

Veronica snorts. “You did piss me off for a bit there, but I’ve got bigger problems now.”

Marcel gives her a look, a deadpan. “Just barely making it off of your shit list is something of a small victory, I suppose. I’ll take it.”

He allows Veronica to curl up next to him, his arm going around her shoulders while his feet are propped up on the coffee table. Veronica raises an eyebrow, not because his ankles are crossed, but because she notices that he still wears those stupid socks, the really long ones that serve no real purpose.

She refrains from commenting, though, just an absent minded thought while she brings the spoon to her mouth. The ice cream has melted a little bit, but it’s still cold. It also doesn’t stop Marcel from stealing it and taking a bite, too.

“I’m not trying to break away from Harry, but I can’t keep relying on him to fight my battles for me.”

The curl of Marcel’s toes lets Veronica know he doesn’t agree with that statement. “He’s not, V.”

“You shouldn’t’ve told him anything,” she counters. “I should’ve been the one to have told him, at least. Or figured it out myself.”

“Has it stopped?”

Veronica freezes. It’s a simple yes or no question, but everything hasn’t been so simple lately anyway. “For now,” she replies, going for another bite of ice cream so that will keep her from answering, if only for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry, then,” Marcel says. “I probably should’ve asked you about it first, but I know how you are, and how you were when we were younger: a lot like me, actually.” Marcel shifts, and Veronica moves herself so that they can see one another. “Harry’s always played big brother, and I don’t think that’s going to change. I wouldn’t tell him when kids picked on me, but he knew.”

Veronica nods in agreement, losing her appetite for the rest of her ice cream. She passes it over to Marcel, but he just sets it down on the coffee table.

“Bullies in school will always be different, Veronica. We grow up, and we move on, don’t really ever see those people again.” Marcel bites his lip, and that’s a nervous habit that’s formed from wanting to say something but knowing it’s better if he holds it back.

Veronica can handle it though; whatever Marcel has to say, it needs to be said, and she’s not going to be one of those people who has a problem with hearing people out. “Spit it out.”

“But you’re different, Veronica.”

And her breath hitches.

“Nothing about you is wrong, but this is something that people don’t get.” Marcel takes her hand quickly, thinking he may lose her to the topic at hand. He never means to be upsetting, but his life revolves around truth, and as difficult as it is to hear it, there has been very little Marcel’s ever been wrong about. “And you’ll deal with that for as long as people out there make it an issue. It’s silly to think that me, or Harry, or any one of our friends has the ability to keep you out of harms way, but that doesn’t mean we’re not gonna try.”

Veronica squeezes Marcel’s hand in return before letting go and gathering him up into a hug instead. It’s obvious the other lad isn’t expecting it, not with the way he tenses and slowly puts his arms around Veronica, but he eventually does so, and Veronica knows that the issues she faces shouldn’t come from home, that one of these days she’s going to have to have a very big heart to heart with Harry.

Mending things is something rather foreign, never knowing what it’s been like to be distant from people for too long, not with their little clan of troublemakers. She’s lucky, she knows, and the less appropriate response is to remain upset and cast everything aside. She’d rather not be in the business of regret. There’s not been a moment where Veronica’s looked back and wanted to change all of this - herself, her friends, her life. It’d be stupid to say she hasn’t wished for some things to turn out a little differently than planned but never has she had regret, and the faster she fixes this, the stronger she’ll feel again.

Marcel was just the first stepping stone she’s been able to move, and now Harry’s the rock that’s going to take a little more nudging to see the light.

A fight worth taking, but Veronica’s going to have to wait for the right moment.

+

“I hate to be the cause of reawakening your nervousness when it comes to Mr. Wilson,” Veronica starts off saying as she enters Liam’s office, “but I’m pretty sure this was a gift sent from above.”

Liam’s at his desk, typing away and doing god knows what, but he stops the moment Veronica sits down. He looks mildly worried when he looks up at her, faltering on trying to continue typing without look at the screen until he resolutely drops his arms away from the computer to run a hand down his suit jacket. It’s already perfectly straight, but Veronica figures it’s out of habit.

“Hopefully there’s not anything I’ve left out?”

Veronica waves him off. “No, nothing like that.”

“It’s not something I could blackmail him with, is it?” Liam looks wary.

The secretary, on the other hand, tilts her head and cracks an astonished smile. “Is there something I ought to know about?”

“Everyone’s got dirty secrets,” Liam replies matter-of-factly. “Was just a precautionary question, though. You’d be surprised what other board members would do and have done for that kind of information.”

Veronica narrows her eyes at him, the corner of her mouth rising up into a smirk, and when Liam notices, he shakes his head. He walked right into that one. “Not on me,” he proceeds. “I’m a clean slate.”

And Veronica knows he’s lying, not just because he’s actually lying, but because it’d be near impossible for anyone to not have secrets. However, she knows he’s messing around too because he tries to wink and completely fails at it. Winks generally consist of one eye closing, not both. It’s more than endearing, and Veronica has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from _aww-ing_ out loud.

“Sure,” she drawls, shaking her head even though they both know the truth. “Anyway, I just got a very important email. You know those events they’re always inviting you to and you hate going because you always complain that they’re boring and aren’t doing any real good even though they’re for charity-”

Liam clicks his tongue and looks mock offended. “Make me out to be a heartless man, okay. You know I donate even though I don’t attend. Standing around with a bunch of people in fancy dress costumes does nothing for the community.”

“Of course,” Veronica insists, brows rising. “I’m fully aware when you hand me those checks to mail off. I know how many zeros are on each one. I count.”

Liam shrugs. “Gotta make up for it somehow.” Sucking in his cheek is his next response, a clever little way that makes him look guilty and that he knows it, too.

“Well,” Veronica says, shifting in her seat. “I don’t think you’ll be able to do that this time around. At your go ahead, I’ll be booking you for an event this weekend.” She keeps her eyes wide, knowing she has to sell this in order for it to make it happen. If there’s one thing she’s learned from this entire experience with Liam, it’s that sucking up may get you so far, but _selling_ something does so much better.

“And tell me, why would you do that?”

“Because we’ve steered way off course from the original subject; it’s got to do with Mr. Wilson,” Veronica says matter-of-factly. “I just got an email for an event he’s hosting, charity, no less, and you’ve been invited. I’d highly recommend you going.”

Liam doesn’t even consider it, especially when he says, “I think you missed the part where I send money in my place.”

“Pretty sure I got that part,” the wistfulness in her voice borders on the sound of an _ah-ha_ type of moment. “However, it’d be in your best interest to go this time around because what better way to actually keep a client via networking at his own social event?”

The attention has been on her since the moment she’s entered the room, but Liam looks away the moment she finishes. His hand runs down his jacket again, especially when he stands, buttons it so that it sits in it’s formal place before shoving a hand in his trouser pocket. “I’m listening,” he replies, a sign that he wants her to continue. He doesn’t round the desk, rather walks over to the window that overlooks a good portion of the city around them. His back is now facing Veronica, and even if his face is obscured, it’s definitely not a bad view.

“We’re already in the predicament of having an investor leave, taking millions with him if he does so,” she explains, standing up from her chair to pace this one out. Liam won’t be able to notice her moving, but it’s better for rambling. “We- _You_ don’t want that, so that’s why you asked me to help you with your presentation in case that’s what Mr. Wilson’s appointment is about. Thing is, there’s no way we’ve got the upper hand; we’re working with a rumor, right?”

Liam briefly turns back to her, nodding along. “One that may not be true, after all.”

“But we’re going to be presumptuous and say that it is. So, if we have this rumor, it’s also a good bet to conclude that _other_ companies have heard whispers of this rumor. If he’s pulling out, he’s got options, lots and lots of options to invest in, does he not?” Veronica curls her hair behind her ear and brushes her hands over her skirt, wiping away any nervous sweat that’s accumulated.

“And you’re positive this event will be a shoe-in?” Liam asks.

Veronica thinks he knows what she’s getting at, but he’s probably letting her explain just for the fun of it. Either that, or he’s taking very calculated steps with her plan, looking for any flaws. It’s what anyone business-savvy would do.

“No, not exactly, but it does give us an idea of his mood, the general competition. It’s best to, once again, assume that other companies know that Mr. Wilson might be leaving. They’re going to want in, see if the rumor’s true.” Her pacing ends when Liam turns to look at her, and the only thing she can do is stop and stare (because Liam looks rather good in a deep gray suit and the sun illuminating his figure; he looks sharp and powerful, and if that isn’t the reason why Veronica’s heart skips a beat, then she ought to be worried). “Plus,” she dips her head and gestures with her hand, “you two know one another, at least on a business level. You’ve worked with him, engaged with him too. Make him feel welcome again, Mr. Payne. Let him know - without _actually_ letting him know - that you’re on his side.”

Liam takes a breath, and he looks rather stoic, but the eyes look cunning, and Veronica knows she’s just pitched him something good. “Manipulation,” he says, simply.

Veronica looks up and considers the word. “I’d rather think we’re being persuasive. That’s a much nicer word, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t take long for Liam to approach the subject again after taking a moment to himself. He takes a step forward, resting his hands on the back of his expensive leather chair before he grins. “Well, then, Ms. Malik,” and her name rolls off his tongue like honey, deep and rich, and hell, Veronica thinks it sounds incredible (mostly because she’s biased), “I guess I’ve got a party to attend.”

+

Saturday’s are meant for two things: going out and having a good time, or staying in and relaxing.

Veronica’s mostly grown out of getting drunk, and maybe it’s lame that she’s settled in for the night. She’s not alone, however. Louis and Eleanor are over, and the rest of their clan is off doing god knows what.

They’ve chosen a movie, though; Veronica doesn’t remember the name. She’s too busy dressed in pajamas and throwing popcorn at Louis. Eleanor’s just trying to pay attention; given the fact that she’s the one that chose the film in the first place, it makes sense that everyone else has decided to occupy their time with other, less important things.

“You’re a lousy shot,” Louis says as he throws a piece of popcorn back at Veronica. She barely misses it, and the crunch it makes between her teeth lets them all know she caught it.

“Am not. You’re just shit at catching.”

“Would you two shut the fuck up?” Eleanor grumbles. She glances back at them even though she’s on the floor, sitting on a pillow because she had to move due to the impromptu flying popcorn in front of the screen.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve seen this movie before, El. You could join us, you know,” Veronica tries.

“I’m not in the habit of wasting popcorn.”

And her point is proved when Veronica throws another piece, which lands in Louis’ hair. He makes a disgusted face, albeit that doesn’t stop him from picking it out and eating it anyway.

“The least the two of you could do is indulge me,” Eleanor tries again, this time pausing the movie and giving up.

“We did,” Louis pipes up. “Being here with you isn’t enough?”

Veronica cackles immediately the second she realizes that that was the wrong thing for Louis to voice out loud. Eleanor’s face goes sour before she slides off of her pillow, picks it up, and chucks it at Louis’ head. “What a typical male thing to say!”

Veronica’s amused, especially as Louis practically shuffles down to her end of the couch since Eleanor is now aiming to sit down.

“Sorry!” he cries, and it’s all in good fun, especially when Eleanor grabs a hold of his ankle to draw him back.

“No, babe,” she smiles sweetly. “You can sit here next to me.”

Louis throws in a _help me_ face, but Veronica shrugs and laughs at his misfortune. “Better learn to watch what you say. You know Eleanor doesn’t take your bullshit, Louis.”

“Of course,” Louis retorts, “because you’re not the one she’s mad at now. You’re her best friend; she can’t be mad at you.”

“Au contraire,” Eleanor quickly says. “Veronica’s not out of the woods just yet.”

The smile on Veronica’s face immediately goes away, mainly when she notices that Louis is looking at her with a smirk, eyebrow curved upwards. She’s childish when she scrunches up her face at him and sticks her tongue out; it doesn’t help any either because he looks like he’s won something.

“I’ve done nothing, my dear,” Veronica tries, really not in the mood to deal with Eleanor’s line of questioning, because that’s where it will definitely end up. Eleanor knows how to get the truth, and she’ll do anything until she’s satisfied. Even if that leaves people in tears, she’s willing to claim it’s for the greater good; of what, Veronica isn’t even sure, but she can admit that it’s helped relieve some previous tension.

“Liar.” Eleanor pats Louis on the thigh to gain his attention so she can address him. “Either you can stay here, or go somewhere else. No interruptions.”

Since no one else is in the house - Marcel and Niall having gone out for a date, and Harry spending less time within the flat - Louis’ really got no where to go, and for a moment Veronica feels bad for him. It’s not so bad when it’s both Eleanor and him together. They’re a lovely couple, but Veronica knows she’s the third wheel tonight. Leeroy’s a call away, but Veronica’s got a habit of trying not to be a bother to people.

“I’ll sit.”

“Good,” Eleanor nods before turning her attention to Veronica. “Didn’t mean to ruin the fun, but you brought this upon yourself. I wanna know what you did to Harry, and don’t lie to me because there’s been tension ever since he blew up at you last week.”

Veronica groans, throws her head back against the couch because this is the last thing she wants to discuss. Of course, she’d willingly sat down just the other night to talk to Marcel, but that was all the heart-to-heart she had left in her for the time being. “He’s mad at me, obviously.”

“You gonna work it out?”

Shrugging is not a good answer, but it’s the only one Veronica’s got. She would very much _like_ to work out whatever issue is going on between them, and to be honest, Veronica doesn’t even know exactly what it is. When Harry had gotten mad, it’d just been from her over-offering her extra time to help Liam, and maybe her boss was the problem, her little crush no secret to her friends. But for Harry to get upset like that wasn’t normal. Sure, she’d seen him angry, red in the face from kids beating up on Marcel and the like (Harry had always been a force to reckon with when it came to his twin) but other than that, he’s always been pretty mellow. “I’m waiting for him to get the stick out of his ass and come find me.”

“Or you could be the bigger person-” Louis starts, but Veronica quickly glares at him, and he shuts up immediately.

“Yes, maybe I could, but he’s the one with the problem, not me. He’s being a dick, and if he really has something to say, I’ll just counter it with the fact that I’ve helped him out more times than he can count. Stupid drunk asshole,” Veronica mutters bitterly.

Eleanor doesn’t buy the behavior; although, Louis seems to. He looks concerned, whereas Eleanor rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot. The both of you are.”

And before Veronica can respond to that, a definite protest on her lips, the sound of the phone ringing interrupts them all. None of them are in a rush to answer it until Veronica realizes that it’s hers, the one she left all the way in her bedroom. It’s probably not important enough to answer, but she gets up anyway to answer it, likes the way that Louis silently pleads with her not to go. “I’ll be right back,” she says.

By the time she gets to it, her cell’s stopped ringing, but she checks it anyway and finds that it’d been Liam calling her. It’s past five o’clock, and there’s no way he’d be in the office.

Now the question is whether she should call back or not.

Veronica stares at the screen as she makes her way out of her bedroom towards the living room. Her thumb hovers over her boss’ name. Although, she ends up not having to make the decision as to whether she should call him back because the phone rings again, startling her and drawing the attention of both Louis and Eleanor.

“Staring at it doesn’t do anything,” Louis comments, leaning over to try and get a glimpse of the screen.

Eleanor smacks him on the leg because he’s only being nosy, and it’s no surprise when she looks over at Veronica curiously. “You can answer it. We won’t interrupt.” And then she smiles innocently.

“It’s Liam,” Veronica suddenly blurts out. “I don’t think I can.”

There are two responses to her words. One where Louis asks, “Is that your boss?” and the other is a near squeal from Eleanor who tells Veronica to, “Answer it!”

And the thing is, she should. It could be some kind of emergency considering this is the second time Liam’s called in less than five minutes. That hasn’t happened, ever.

“Do it, or I’ll do it for you.”

Veronica quickly presses the green button, bringing the phone up to her ear because of Eleanor’s threat. The last thing she needs is her best friend on the phone with her boss because well, Eleanor wouldn’t embarrass her. That’s not her style; however, she would possibly go out of her way to make idle conversation until Veronica would be available (which, of course, she would be. She’d just be trying to claw the phone out of her best friend’s grasp).

“H-hello?” Her tone sounds timid, and Veronica closes her eyes at how stupid she sounds. It’s not difficult to answer the phone. Especially considering that’s a huge part of her job, but the idea that Liam’s calling sets her on edge. Not only that, but she’s got two sets of eyes that blink owlishly at her. Curious little birds, they are, and Veronica’s glad she’s not alone.

“Veronica? Thank god,” Liam says on the other end of the line. He sounds exasperated and relieved all at once.

“Yes, can I help you?”

There’s a moment of static that crackles across the line, and Veronica briefly wonders if the call dropped, but then Liam’s spitting out words that Veronica can’t understand until she tells him to slow down.

“The charity, you remember?” Liam asks her.

“Of course,” Veronica replies. She does because she’d booked it as soon as she’d gotten done with telling Liam about it. “That’s tonight.”

Liam chuckles, but there’s no hint of amusement in his tone. It’s stale as can be, and Veronica wonders if him attending fell through.

“Yes,” the boss agrees. “It is; although, there’s a bit of a situation.”

“Oh?”

There’s a toe that nudges her thigh, and Veronica reaches down to grab it, side-eyeing Louis who mouths, “ _What’s going on?_ ”

Veronica waves him off, brings her attention back to the conversation at hand.

“Bringing along a date is usually a sure way that people don’t get bored at these events,” Liam explains. “And unfortunately for me, mine’s cancelled on me.”

Veronica tuts, wonders who Liam decided to invite that bugged out on him at the last minute. “I’m sure you’ll find someone else?” she adds, trying her best to sound optimistic.

It’s also in that moment that the front door to the flat opens and in comes Harry who looks more than a little disheveled. Everyone looks his way, including Veronica, but then Liam’s drawing her attention back to his plight.

“That’s the thing,” and at this moment, Veronica can only imagine Liam’s shoulders slumping, probably dressed in an expensive suit, sulking at the idea of attending the event alone, “I’m already here. I feel like a fool, and you were the first person I thought of. This was your idea, and I hate to ask this-”

“What’s happening?” Harry’s voice sounds out over Liam’s. Veronica gives out a frustrated growl that Liam thinks is aimed towards him until she apologizes and asks him to give her a moment.

Thankfully, Louis steps in by patting the couch cushion next to him, aiming for Harry to take a seat. Harry looks rather stubborn, though, because Veronica’s there. So, she stands up and moves so that Harry can feel comfortable without her presence so near.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Payne-”

“Am I interrupting something?”

And Veronica bites her lip and wonders how to answer that question because technically speaking, no, he’s not really bothering her. She’s just with friends, and it’s not like they were doing anything too important. Eleanor might think otherwise given she was on that slippery slope of forcing the conversation in the direction of Harry, but now that he’s shown up, Veronica knows she’s escaped that one.

“No,” she gives. Her friends won’t be angry with that answer just as much as they wouldn’t be if she were to say yes. “Sorry about that, though. There’s just a conversation going.”

“If you’re busy-”

“It’s not a big deal. Just continue.” And it’s awkward standing there with three people looking at her and a boss who’s too polite. “Please,” she quickly tacks on, doesn’t want him to think she’s getting frustrated with him.

“-wanted to know if you’d join me,” Liam says, and that’s all Veronica hears. “Tonight, I mean.”

She must look completely surprised because Eleanor gathers herself so that she’s sitting on the edge of her seat. Louis’ just there, having realized the best thing to do is wait, and Harry looks like he wants to leave. His eyes catch Veronica’s before they look away, and that sends a pain through her heart.

“Mr. Payne, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I wouldn’t be asking you if I thought otherwise, and if you really want me to say it, I will.”

Veronica takes a seat on the end of the couch, far enough away from Harry so that he won’t feel like he needs to get up and leave. He’s here and him staying in the same room as her is a good sign, one that she doesn’t want to break just yet. “Say what, exactly?”

“You’d do a lot better job at talking with these people than I ever could, and there’s also the fact that I’d rather not be here alone.” Liam’s voice has gone softer now, and Veronica doesn’t know whether that’s because he’s trying to convince her, or simply keep his voice down. “Besides, I know you feel the same way as I do about these events. I’m pretty sure you’d be able to amuse yourself, too. There’s a lady here with a feather on her hat, and god help me, but it’s atrocious.”

Veronica snorts and imagines what kind of outfit would match with a feather hat, and the images are not pretty. Those thoughts are only a temporary reprieve from the impending decision she’s going to have to make. Liam’s been stood up, and although he hasn’t claimed nervousness, Veronica knows that that’s what this is about. Liam wouldn’t be asking for her help if he didn’t truly need it, and now there’s a part of her that feels obligated to follow through for him simply because this _was_ her idea, after all.

And maybe she accidentally sighs, or sounds bothered because the next thing she knows, Liam is backtracking. “Like I said, if you’re busy, it’s not a problem. Plus, I help run one of the biggest companies in our market; I should be able to handle a party like this on my own-”

“Liam?” Veronica interrupts.

“Yes?”

“On one condition,” Veronica decides to say. This hadn’t been her plan, hadn’t even thought about tagging along with her boss to a charity event they’re trying to use to the company’s advantage. She’d brought up the idea because it was simply that, a good idea. It’d be terrible of her to back out of this now, even if she had no obligation towards it in the first place. Her idea, her problem (and maybe, kinda, sorta, because Liam had personally asked her to accompany him).

“Name it,” Liam says immediately.

“I’ll meet you there, then, if I’m allowed to bring a guest,” she reasons. Of course, the whole point of Liam asking her was so that they’d be a pair, but Veronica’s just as afraid as Liam on this one. Social situations like this - that certainly involve a level of class she knows she’ll never be able to achieve - are not her forte, and it’s not like she knows anyone similar either. But it’ll make her feel better, not because of a lack of feeling safe, but because it’s easier to be out of her element if someone is there suffering with her.

Liam had made the argument that he feels exactly as she would if she were there already, but the thing is, regardless of Liam feeling out of place, he’s got the money and looks to fit right in without anyone batting an eyelash.

Which poses a real problem, one Veronica hadn’t even thought of before she agreed to this.

A dress.

Or a tux, but she figures that might not be the common uniform most women wear to these kinds of events.

“As long as I’m allowed to steal you away to chat with incessant old people, sure.” Liam doesn’t hesitate again, and as much as that’s supposed to bring a sigh of relief to Veronica, all it does is make her wonder what she’s gotten herself into.

“Have yourself a drink or two, and I’ll meet you there in thirty.”

Well, so much for trying to get on Harry’s good side tonight. Veronica’s got a feeling that this is only going to make him feel worse.

+

The first thing Veronica does when she hangs up is glance down at her state of dress. Of course, she’ll have to get changed, but she’d been with the thought of staying in for the night, no preparations of the sort to go out until tomorrow. And her panic is obviously written all over her face because the next thing she knows, Eleanor is grabbing her by the shoulders and asking, “What do you need me to do?”

“Shit,” Veronica responds, the weight of her agreement finally setting in.

“C’mon, babe. Stay with me.” Eleanor pats her shoulder to help further coax words out of her best friend.

“I just told my boss I’d attend a rather important charity event with him,” Veronica starts explaining, “and I’m beginning to realize that I probably just made a big mistake.”

Eleanor bites her lip, and then Harry’s up off the couch the next second, claiming he’s leaving the room, something about not having time for this.

However, that seems to snap Veronica out of her daze, gently pushing past Eleanor to call out for the boy who’s been her best friend since the day they were born. “Harry, please.”

And it’s probably the most selfish thing of her to ask this of him, but she knows how to make all of this right if Harry will agree. His storming out had been a good indication of how well he knew Veronica, knew what she was thinking way before she even knew herself. His attempted escape leaves no room for questioning.

“Whatever it is, I don’t care, Veronica,” Harry says calmly as he turns around.

“You do, you idiot,” Veronica’s tone taking on something close to apologetic. “Please come with me?”

Harry has never been able to master the art of raising an eyebrow; rather he’s always looked pensive, and now is no exception. “I fail to see why I’m your choice; you’ve got two other willing participants.”

Which might be true. Veronica could ask Louis, but he’d be a last resort if Eleanor wasn’t up for it, and Veronica wonders what Eleanor thinks since she hadn’t immediately offered for her to tag along. She suspects that Eleanor knows the reason, just like Harry knows it too but won’t admit it.

“I’ll ask Eleanor if you don’t agree to, but I want to make this right between us.”

Harry licks his lips, shakes his head, his hair falling loosely around his face. It’s gotten quite long, and he’s in need of a trim, but Veronica thinks it makes him look younger and not so critical of life and all that it offers. “Pretty sure inviting me to your boyfriend’s party isn’t the way go about fixing things, V.”

She winces at that. It’s meant to be a dig; they both know it. Veronica doesn’t let it get to her, though, refuses to flinch or fight it because she’s resilient and knows that Harry’s only being unfair on her behalf. Life’s a little twisted for him at the moment, and while it’s unnecessary that he channel his anger directly onto Veronica, she understands and doesn’t blame him for it.

“You know it’s not like that. He’s my boss, and he’s asking for my help,” she says, and the next part that comes will be the final nail in the coffin, the one thing she knows will have him back down and come with her. “You’d know that if you met him, spoke to him more than impartial greetings at the office."

Harry's been there enough times to know who Liam is, but it's only recently that his jealousy has shown through. Veronica, at least, wants him to understand her predicament, for him to know that this isn't easy for her either. It's also a way for her to find out why he's acting out. There have been plenty of other people in her life, some far worse than Liam, in fact. So, tonight she's doing this, being selfish, selfless, and putting on the front of a caring coworker.

Harry falters at her words and must realize that she's being completely serious about this. He knows her well enough, and it shows when he runs a hand through his hair and gives a nod. "Okay."

Veronica doesn't have time to freak out from excitement, but she does show off all her teeth when she smiles brightly. "Good," she says. "You're going to have to wear something nice, too, and I'm going to need to find myself a dress." As soon as Veronica whirls around, Eleanor looks at her with wide eyes. “Right, a dress. Something I’m pretty sure I don’t even have in my closet. I’m such an idiot.”

The palm of her hand meets her forehead, and it’s probably the wrong time for Louis to chime in with, “You’re beginning to act like a chicken with it’s head cut off. Calm down.”

Eleanor scolds him before drawing her attention back to her friend. “Actually,” she says, bouncing on the ball of her heel, “I may or may not have something for you to wear.”

Those words are meant to be reassuring, and in a way, they are, but Veronica can practically feel her heart beating in her chest. “Really?”

Eleanor nods without another word, gathers Veronica’s hand in hers and pulls her towards the door. “It’s in my closet, and Harry-” she stops just as she opens the door, regarding green eyes full of skepticism, “see if you have a suit, or you can borrow one of Louis’.”

Before there’s another word said, Eleanor’s dragging Veronica out into the hallway and down towards her flat on the other side of the building. Veronica wants to ask why the couple actually own clothes of this caliber, not knowing if every person should, and she just didn’t know. But it doesn’t matter now, the question fading from her mind as soon as they get where they’re going. Eleanor’s room is nothing close to plain, full of colors, mostly deep shades of green that accent her so well. Veronica’s isn’t the opposite; hers is blue in tone, but it’s definitely not as neat and organized as this.

Eleanor leaves Veronica standing there while she shuffles through her closet. She’s got a lot of clothes, definitely not afraid to admit that. It’s also distinctly organized because it takes the woman less than a minute to find what she’s looking for.

Walking out of the closet, Eleanor lays out a black garment bag onto the bed, smoothes it out and looks up at Veronica, grinning.

“Should I be worried?” Veronica asks.

“No,” Eleanor says. “Thankful.”

The skepticism that had been on Harry’s face just moments ago, has now transferred over to Veronica’s because she looks at her best friend and wonders how the hell they’ve come this far together. Eleanor’s always had her back, told her the truth, confided in her, and helped her since the day they met, and going so far as to help her right now is only another line added onto their list of favors they’ve yet to fill for one another. Thing is, even if Veronica were to express that, Eleanor would be quick to dismiss it as a friend helping another friend. The lengths she’s gone for Veronica, well, it’s something she won’t ever be able to repay.

And as Eleanor finally unzips the bag, Veronica knows that this is something she has no words for either.

Of course, the article of clothing looks a bit weird lying on the bed like it is, but as Veronica rounds the frame to stand beside Eleanor, her brows nearly reaches her hairline. “Where’d you get this?”

It looks nice, not entirely expensive but classic with the right shade of maroon. It’s lengthy with three-fourth sleeves, a killer neckline, and something straight out of a magazine.

“I found it in some thrift shop, actually,” Eleanor explains as she takes it out of the bag and holds it up. “Right around the time you first asked to borrow some of my skirts.”

Veronica thinks back on that, it being years ago, really. “And you’ve had it all this time?”

“Originally, I bought it with you in mind. It was hanging up, and Harry thought you’d like it, too.”

“Harry’s seen it?” Veronica must be looking at her friend as if she’s crazy, but Eleanor laughs and holds out the dress.

“Yeah, although, a time never came up where you needed it, and I wasn’t gonna impose by buying you a dress. Just felt it was a bit too forward at the time.” Hopefully the inside of Eleanor’s cheek won’t be too raw when she stops chewing on it, and since Veronica still hasn’t taken the dress yet, she pushes it forward again. “Take it.”

Carefully, Veronica gathers the dress in her hands, the material quite soft. All she can do is stare at it, though, really not understanding the story behind the clothing, nor the reason this all happens to be so convenient. “What’s that supposed to mean, El?”

Her friend shrugs and sits down on the bed roughly, it bouncing along with the curls of her hair. “Didn’t really know how to act around you, at first.” And when Veronica goes to open her mouth, brows furrowed, Eleanor waves her off and continues. “I wasn’t afraid or anything like that, but I knew how personal this was for you, babe.” She smiles, picking at her bedspread while Veronica stands just to her side with wonder in her hazel eyes. “Part of me wanted to help you out because we were friends, but the other half knew that assuming and buying you something might’ve been a bit too soon. Plus,” she decides to add, “I might’ve worn it on a few occasions anyway. I couldn’t let it go to waste. It was too pretty to pass up.”

She can agree with that, and while the moment is sentimental, something Eleanor doesn’t do quite often, Veronica decides to take it upon herself to lighten the mood with, “You haven’t had sex in this dress, right? Because I assume what you meant by having worn it, you did it to pick up men. Don’t lie.”

Eleanor glances up, looks quite taken aback. But as much as one might think she looks offended, the little glint in her eye shines through so easily. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Veronica pushes at Eleanor’s shoulder while the other woman laughs and scrambles away. “Go change, V. May you look just as gorgeous, and hopefully it’ll bring you as much luck as it did me.”

“You’re something else, El,” Veronica calls as she heads off to the bathroom.

And when she gets there, the mirror is avoided. It’s a quick change and a minute to herself just to breathe - something Veronica silently thanks Eleanor for giving her because she won’t get that chance later - before she’s slipping back into the room. Finding, Eleanor splayed out on her bed, Veronica stands there before clearing her throat. The dress, from what she can tell fits her well enough. It falls to the floor, and it holds its place perfectly, not falling off her shoulder and too loose around the middle. It’s tight fitting in that area, before it falls gracefully over the lower half of her body.

Eleanor is quick to sit up, grinning like a mad woman and beckoning Veronica closer. “It doesn’t exactly scream rich,” she says, “but as soon as we get you into hair and makeup, it won’t matter.”

The flush that taints her cheeks doesn’t last for very long because Eleanor’s flitting around, a whirlwind in Veronica’s eyes. She’s being told to sit down on the bed, to closer her eyes, and despite knowing they're on a short time limit, Eleanor’s quick and precise.

The knock on the door also serves as the perfect timer.

“I’ll get that and find you some shoes. I’d offer mine, but you’re sorta like bigfoot.” She sticks out her tongue before running off, not leaving enough time for Veronica to insult her back.

However, she does take Eleanor’s word by standing up and heading towards the bathroom. Unfortunately, and as weird as it actually is for Eleanor (considering the fact that it’s _Eleanor_ ), she doesn’t have a full length mirror, and while that would do wonders for Veronica and her self-consciousness, at least she’s able to stare at herself in the mirror from the waist up.

And she doesn’t look half bad.

Her makeup’s done lightly with a bold, deep red lip. It matches the fluidity of the dress along with her hair, long as it is, it’s parted to the side and straightened, save for the wave that frames the left side of her face. Veronica’s been done up before, but this is something different. Maybe it’s the destination or the fact that she’s got a lot riding on this, but it’s helping her view of herself, putting it in a different light, and whether it’s good or not, Veronica’s not sure yet.

She’s startled soon after when a knock on the door chases her away from her thoughts. Veronica quickly opens it to find Harry on the other side wearing slacks, a button up shirt, and a jacket to go along with it. His hair isn’t as ruly, and while he may not fit the part of expensive partygoer, Veronica has a feeling it won’t matter.

See, Harry’s always had this green eyes and innocent face, and Veronica’s sure he’ll be a hit with the women. Regardless of a lot of them being married, there’s no doubt he’ll charm them, and maybe it’s time Harry’s reminded of that. Not that Veronica wants to encourage him to cheat, but to get away from the crowd at the bar, show that with a little effort, Harry’s got the potential to move upwards on the social ladder if he just applied himself and took it easier on the alcohol.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go,” he says as he takes Veronica in.

Eleanor comes racing down the hallway and bumps Harry out of the way to hand her some shoes. They’re just black pumps, something she pretty much wears everyday at the office anyway, but she figures Eleanor chose them because they matched the outfit the best.

She slips them on, well aware of Eleanor standing there and looking like she’s taken Veronica from little orphan Annie all the way to Megan Fox. And then there’s Harry, off to the side trying his best not to look out of place in the clothes he’s wearing, watching Veronica as she slips on her shoes.

“You’re not backing out now,” Veronica responds. Her reply is late, but she eyes him in case he decides he really can’t follow through.

“Not what I meant.”

While Veronica does catch Harry’s words, she can’t respond because Eleanor’s drawing her close and asking for her to pay attention. “Don’t be nervous,” she says. “And don’t try to tell me you’re not because as soon as you get there, I know you’ll be freaking out. Remember that Harry’s there, and so is Liam, and everything’s going to be okay.”

The next thing that happens, that takes Veronica completely by surprise, is the fact that Eleanor pulls her into a hug. It’s not anything unusual, but the timing is off, and Veronica almost stumbles because of the quick movement.

"Don't let Harry drink or wander off," she says into Veronica’s hair. She meant to whisper that, apparently, because then Harry scoffs.

"Hey," he says, looking rather offended. "I’ll be good. No problem."

Eleanor let's Veronica go and turns to the boy who looks about ready to place his hands on his hips and stomp like a four year old child. "Best behavior." She points at him, and while Harry opens his mouth to respond, Veronica quickly shakes her head behind her friends back.

Harry drops it. "Fine."

"Now," Eleanor claps her hand together and ushers everyone into the living room, “you’re gonna go kick some ass and come home with a brilliant story because god knows one of us needs some excitement in our lives.”

They’re all greeted by Louis who doesn’t look amused. He’s holding a small purse in his hand and Veronica’s car keys, which he hands over as soon as she approaches. “‘m not boring, El.”

“Of course you’re not,” Veronica agrees, giving him a wink.

Somewhere behind them, Eleanor scoffs, but then she’s returning to her natural grace by opening the front door and sweeping her hand out in front of her like a showcase girl on _The Price Is Right_. “Goodbye, good luck. Have a nice night.”

Harry’s the first one through the threshold, having given up speaking at all while Veronica slowly trails after him. “Right, rushing us out the door doesn’t guarantee that you’ll have sex any faster.”

Eleanor narrows her eyes as she leans against the doorframe, eyebrow cocked. “No, but it does mean we’ve got some extra time before you make it back. Besides, you _were_ sort of cockblocking me earlier.” In order for Eleanor to make sure she remains safe, she quickly steps back and begins to the shut the door just as Veronica makes an attempt to slap her arm.

“Not cool!”

“Very much so,” the other woman says through the crack in the door. “Now get going, or I’ll threaten to christen your apartment. You’ve got a lovely living room window-”

Veronica’s eyes widen, shaking her head while Harry laughs from behind her. He’s already a good ways down the hall, but apparently Eleanor’s got a voice that carries. “You are not having sex in front of the windows, fucking hell, _Eleanor_. You’d scare the neighbors off, shit.”

“But it’s a lovely view-”

“I’m leaving.”

“Love you too, babe.”

Eleanor inches the door closed a little further while Veronica stands there despite her previous statement. She’s hesitant, can’t make up her mind on whether she wants to ask one last thing or forget about it and go on with her night.

“Spit it out,” Eleanor requests, because she’s always been able to pick up on Veronica’s tells.

“Really don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” Veronica admits.

From down the hall, Harry clears his throat, and as Veronica looks back at him, she holds up a hand so he’ll give her just another moment. And by the time she returns to her previous gaze, Eleanor’s got the door cracked open further with a sincere look on her face. “You go there and do what you need to do, V,” the woman explains. “You get through the night with Liam, doing whatever the hell he needs you for; you down a couple of drinks to make it through the night if it gets too snobby, and for the love of god,” she pauses, just for a second, just enough for Veronica to feel the anxiety creep across her skin, “fix it with Harry. Make him see what you do if you have to. Just,” Eleanor sighs and gives her half a smile before finishing her thought, “watch yourself. Don’t get swept up too soon, okay?”

Veronica gives a shaky nod, not quite understanding what Eleanor’s getting at just yet, but then the door is closing again, and she knows she needs to leave.

The hall seems a lot longer when she walks down it. Harry takes the keys from her and takes her hand as they climb down the few stairs they need to get down. This should feel awkward, but it doesn’t. Despite the silence, Veronica’s just happy that Harry’s here, and while her mind has drifted to thoughts of Liam, to tonight’s events, to Eleanor’s words, as soon as she gets into the car - Harry helping her in and shutting the passenger side door for her - she snaps out of whatever daze she’d been caught up in because her focus should be here.

Soon enough, Harry’s sliding behind the wheel, and the first thing Veronica does is turn to him before he can get the key into the ignition. “Thank you,” she says, and she means it.

Harry only answers with a shake of his head as he turns the key and focuses on the drive ahead of them.

It’s not until they’re about halfway there that Veronica finally comes to the realization that this is it. Talking was never anything she’d been good at, but tonight feels like a defining point in her life, and even with that the case, she’ll be the one to make it memorable in the end.

+

They’re in a parking lot because Veronica insisted. Two reasons that played into her logic, though, one being the fact that their crummy car isn’t even worth half of what most of these people at this event tonight will be driving. Receiving looks from the valet is not anything she needs to add on to her plate. Veronica (and to some extent, Harry too) is already going to have to deal with the rich gossip and petty smiles, all in the name of a good cause.

Secondly, Veronica has yet to talk to Harry. Sure, she could save this for when they’re inside, but that might look tacky standing in the corner of a room looking as if they’re in a bit of a lover’s quarrel. Veronica doesn’t want to be noticed tonight, would rather be at home with Eleanor and Louis, if she’s honest. It’s a good thing she doesn’t express that thought, though, knows it’s better now because Harry will surely encourage her through the night.

“Either we can go inside, or stand out here all night,” Harry’s voice rings out into the air. “Which would be incredibly pointless. I didn’t dress up in a penguin suit just to go unnoticed.”

Veronica waits until Harry circles around the car, leaning against the trunk before she takes her cue to speak. “You came because I asked you to, and because there’s going to be free alcohol. And not the cheap kind, mind you.”

The only response to that from Harry isn’t a protest but an actual smug nod and a wiggle of his eyebrows. As self-indulgent as he is, at least Harry’s not a liar, nor someone who tries to dim the truth.

“Thank you,” Veronica says next, ducking her head down and thumbing the clutch she’ll be using in replace of a purse. It’s black with a bit of gold embellishment to it. It’s definitely fake, but it glints in the light of the moon and the lights shining off of the building they’re meant to be walking into right now. “You’re upset with me, and it’s because of Liam, and while I could sit here and presume that you’re only here for the sake of keeping an eye on him, _Liam_ , I know that’s not the case.”

The breath that Harry takes is not something that is missed. It’s not a snort, but his chest rises and falls, heavily as if this is the last thing he wishes to discuss at the moment. Veronica doesn’t feel sorry for it. “Doesn’t matter anyway.”

Veronica’s not looking to start an argument, and by him saying that, it doesn’t mean that he’s looking for one either. It’s Harry’s way of drawing a line in the sand by letting Veronica chose to continue forth with the conversation, or push it aside.

Thing is, Harry always knows what she’ll end up choosing, and Veronica’s never really noticed how lovely it is that he still gives her a choice despite her final decisions.

“I don’t know what you have against him, or why you’re so set on me and him-”

“It’s not _just_ about that, Veronica,” Harry interrupts. “And the fact that you don’t see it, is startling.”

She furrows her brow, leaning against the car, too, because it’s something steady, to give her feet some comfort from her heels. It also serves the purpose of keeping herself at bay lest she grows frustrated. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You don’t think I can take care of myself, that I know what I’m getting into, Harry?”

“Clouded judgment-”

“Fucking _bullshit_ ,” Veronica hisses. She leans in, shuffles forward until she’s closer to Harry but still up against the car. “I know you’re not selfish enough to keep me from a relationship despite your feelings, but out of everyone that’s been in my life that you’ve had the opportunity to hate, you do this with Liam?”

Harry’s jaw tenses, locks up, and he’s mulling over a proper response, she knows. Maybe it isn’t so hard to understand, though; feelings are crap, and they just get in the way and make things worse and painful. They’ve driven people to do horrible things, but surely Harry wouldn’t turn after all these years of friendship. That has always been the first thing between them, will always be if Veronica has any say about it.

“He’s your boss,” Harry eventually says. “It hasn’t crossed your mind that you may just be another pretty face to him?”

A moment ticks by with a slight breeze in the air that moves pieces of Veronica’s hair out of place. She looks away and over to the building that still glitters in the night, and she thinks about Harry’s statement. As smart as she’d like to believe she is, no; she hadn’t really thought of that, figured that couldn’t’ve been the case given she’s not even Liam’s type. Veronica’s not foolish enough to believe that something would ever come out of her being smitten with someone like Liam, but it never hurts to dream.

And maybe that’s where Harry is coming from, her being swept up with wanting to please Liam as best she can, help him out at his beck and call just so that _some_ of his attention will be hers, especially if she can’t have him with the promise of forever. Before, and for the past couple of years she’s worked for him, it’d never really been like this. Veronica hadn’t had feelings; that was a slow, gradual process, and now that Liam’s giving her more of his time, it’s only poking at a bed of flowers ready to bloom at a moment’s notice.

“You’ll meet him tonight, and you’ll see,” she says in reply. “You’ll see what’s the matter, and if anything, rest assured that I’m definitely not dumb enough to believe that anything’s going to come out of this.” There’s no water in her eyes or tightness in her throat, just raw truth that hurts far less than she imaged. She hadn’t given herself high hopes, and so the fall won’t hurt as bad when Liam eventually brings in another girlfriend. Veronica will move on, and everything will be as it once was. “Surely you don’t think I’d get swept away that easily, Harry. As nice looking as he is, I’m not the kind to find a quiet place in the office for a quick fuck either. Don’t worry.”

At that, Veronica gives him a tight smile and reaches out her hand for him to take. Harry looks a little more relaxed, possibly even reassured, and that’s made known when he says, “I’m sorry.”

There might be surprise in Veronica’s eyes, but the rest of her body language wouldn’t show such a thing. It’s not as if she needed to hear that or wanted it, too, but it leaves them both settled with things cleared up and a night ahead of them that might just prove more a disaster than anything else.

++

_He’s nearing twenty-three when Brinley comes along. A bubbly personality, seems to enjoy everything under the sun. So, all around he seems too good to be true._

_And it is, especially after the first and the second time they sleep together._

_It’s not that Brinley leaves him or is cruel, but Zayn soon figures out that he’s only here for the sex. See, it wasn’t ever about getting someone to sleep with him, not for Brinley; the signs showed up a lot earlier than that. But it wasn’t like Zayn knew, not until that boy’s hands found their way onto his body, eyes glazed over with intended fascination._

_He’d been good the first time, Zayn thinking it a mindless fuck. The second, however, confirms his suspicions, and Zayn dumps him without an explanation. He didn’t need one. He wasn’t going to be used, nor was he going to be treated like a fetish._

_There are various moments after their breakup where Zayn wonders if that’s the only kind of people that might love him. It’s not until Harry cradles him into his arms and lets him cry for a good hour before revealing that there’s got to be special someone out there made just for him._

_Zayn didn't believe that would happen any time soon._

_At least, not until he met Liam._


	2. Chapter 2

++

The moment they enter the room, Veronica knows that people are staring. Harry doesn’t look bothered by it. In fact, he looks much like a peacock squaring his shoulders and showing those goddamn dimples that typically make everyone swoon.

Veronica doesn’t tell him to knock it off, not like she’s usually prone to doing. She’s not one for attention, but if Harry can be the relief, then by all means she’s going to let him do it.

The room they’re in is grand and expensive, with chandeliers and pictures on the walls. Circular tables are set up with tags in front of plates so that everyone knows where to sit, and there are waiters around constantly offering glasses of champagne. Despite food being served tonight, there’re treats all against the wall, set up on tables for easy access. It’s not as packed as Veronica imagined it would be, but there’s still plenty of people there to make her doubt herself and what the hell she’d even been thinking.

Veronica sticks to Harry’s side while they glide through people, smiling and nodding in a gesture of acknowledgement. They don’t stop to speak to anyone, not like most others are doing, and that’s mainly because Veronica doesn’t know anyone, and no one’s made an effort to converse with them either.

“Maybe I should call him?” she whispers to Harry when they eventually find a place in the near corner of the room. It’s out of the way of everyone, a place to regroup and figure out where to go from there. “I’m not seeing him.” And she has been looking. The moment she’d stepped into the room, her eyes had darted amongst people and faces, trying to pinpoint exactly where Liam was because he’s their in. They hadn’t asked for an invitation at the door, but surely they will when things take off tonight when it comes time for toasts and speeches and a thank you to all the guests for coming.

“I wouldn’t put it past him if he left,” Harry says, doesn’t add a snort in there because he’s being polite tonight, but Veronica hears it in his tone anyway.

Veronica hums under her breath for no longer than a few seconds, wondering if it’d be best to excuse herself to the bathroom to make the call. No one else here is on their phone, whether they’re too dignified or if it’s out of courtesy, she doesn’t know, and mostly, she just doesn’t want to be rude. After all, this was her idea, and part of her feels like it’d be unfair of her to not do this right, pretend like she belongs, that she’s one of the elite. This isn’t the story of Cinderella, Veronica knows, but it does feel an awful lot like a fairytale in some regard.

“Veronica?”

Startled isn’t the exact word she’d use to describe the flutter of her heart. His voice nestles within her safely, has her pulling away from Harry, only to turn her back to him. It’s where Veronica finds her boss and the person who’d invited her here tonight. She wasn’t apart of the original party, and neither was Harry, but now that Liam’s in her presence, everything feels better. As business savvy as he is, as wealthy and knowledgeable and _smart_ as Veronica’s boss really is, he’s got a way that makes her (and more than likely others, too) feel normal in a relatively outspoken environment.

Since she’s out of her normal attire, Liam having never seen her in anything but clothing that is best for the office, it’s no wonder that he takes her in. Veronica doesn’t read much into the way those brown eyes fall to the floor, to her shoes, most likely, and then darting up and taking in the way she tried her very best to play the part of a women with style.

Now, normally anyone would expect a compliment at this point, but Veronica doesn’t get her hopes up, and Liam doesn’t give her one either. Maybe the glittering of his eyes is supposed to mean something, but he graces her with a soft nod until his attention is drawn away when Harry clears his throat and steps to Veronica’s side.

“The plus one,” he mentions.

Liam barely tilts his head and looks a little puzzled, and while no one really bats an eyelash or wonders what Liam’s thinking, it’s clear when recognition falls upon his features. “Marcel’s twin, right?”

Harry gives the boss a graceful smile, and that’s more to do with the fact that Veronica glances at him before he can spit out a witty remark. It’d be completely unbecoming in a place like this, and even if there’d be an off chance that Liam would laugh, Veronica’s not in the habit of letting her friends screw her over in a social event outside of the office when it involves _others_ within the corporate world.

“Harry,” he replies, and then he’s reaching out for a handshake that Liam gladly reciprocates. Veronica’s left feeling a little nervous during that because it’s two worlds crashing into the other. Marcel’s a direct link, too, but he’s never had feelings for Veronica the way that Harry has, and it’s just a bit weird how Liam and Harry are so close and mean a lot to her…

“Have you talked to anyone?” Veronica interrupts her own train of thought. She’s here for business because even if Liam was tasked to do this on his own with his girlfriend in tow, it didn’t necessarily guarantee that he would’ve done what he needed to do. Liam’s everything a company could ever want: reliable and efficient. But nerves do play a part, and if the way Liam had gone over their work without freaking out like Veronica had witnessed, then maybe it’d be slightly easier feeling like he could handle this.

Maybe she’s just got too much entitlement, stepping in and taking the reigns, but she’s here and a friend and a co-worker, and really, Veronica doubts she’d be doing this for anyone else. Feelings play a part in the decision, but it’s also because she’d like to believe she’s a good person, someone who helps out their friends (not that Liam’s that because he’s not, not really) and is someone completely trustworthy.

“No,” Liam says at first, and then he retracts that by going on. “Well, sure, yeah.” And he nods and looks a little lost. Veronica takes pity on him by making sure she looks as understanding as can be. “Obviously I’ve said my hellos, but if you’re referring to Mr. Investor…”

That is confirmation enough, and Veronica doesn’t push it when he trails off and leaves it at that. “Well,” she smiles, “then I guess we’ve got a very interesting night ahead of us.”

Things don’t get awkward from there because as soon as Veronica’s finished, Harry bows out gracefully with, “I’ll leave you two to your work, then.” He gives his head a bow in Liam’s direction as if it was nice to meet him, before he moves on. Veronica doesn’t have time to tell him to keep the drinks to a minimum, or to watch who he ends up flirting with, but Harry smiles like he knows what Veronica wants to tell him before he disappears within the crowd.

“We’re going to have to look for him,” Liam says, directing the attention back to the matter at hand. He still looks happy for a man stuck at a charity event who normally doesn’t attend them, and that thought puts Veronica at ease as she pushes her thoughts of Harry aside and takes the arm Liam offers her.

They’ll be making their rounds, speaking to people who Veronica hasn’t a clue about. And maybe they’ll be presumptuous, or act as if they care. Maybe they’ll be interested in conversation, or they’ll give all of their attention to Liam.

But at least Veronica’s not going at tonight alone, and a part of her can’t help but feel like Liam might just feel the same way.

+

“It’s nice to meet you again, Liam.”

Veronica hasn’t actually met the man, Mr. Wilson. She’s only seen his picture and vaguely remembers him ever coming into the office. He’s an older gentleman, with a sweet, young thing on his arm, and Veronica briefly wonders what his son thinks about that. If the lifestyle his father has, full of money (and women by the looks of it) is considered normal, or if there are any festering emotions of hate.

And it’s not good to be nosy, not really, but Veronica’s trying to think as if she was in a suit. What tactics, thoughts, or questions would she use to her advantage here. Not that she’d actually bring them up in a conversation, but playing a bit of Sherlock Holmes never hurt anyone. Not only does it challenge the brain, but it brings about conclusions that will hopefully keep Liam with the upper hand.

“I’d say the same, but I’m pretty sure that’s what you’ve said to all your guests.” Liam does nothing but smile as he gives his bite, shakes hands, too, and Veronica’s left a little wide-eyed at the remark.

Normally, insults like that don’t really come across well, but there seems to be something she’s missed in all of this. Liam knows this man well enough, and obviously it’s better to let him play, but if this is the way he’s going to come across, as if he knows exactly what the hell he’s doing, then what’s really the point of her being here?

However, instead of a smart-ass retort, or a cruel comment back, Liam, Veronica, and the woman on Mr. Wilson’s arm are met with laughter. It’s loud and draws some stares, and mainly everyone looks confused save for Liam because he looks like he’s found an in, a way to make an impression, and the moment Veronica realizes that, she sends Liam nothing but a look with her eyebrows raised, letting him know she’s impressed.

“Always the sharp one, you were,” Mr. Wilson says before taking a sip of his champagne.

“I’d like to think so, yes.”

Veronica has to look away then, keep herself from going overboard with her glee. Enjoying herself too much might put her in an awkward position, and the less she’s noticeable, the better it is for everyone.

With laughter still evident in the older man’s eyes, he settles himself into a conversation with Liam. Veronica listens, of course she does, and while doing so, she also treats herself to the view. They’re in a different area of the room, having found Mr. Wilson surrounded by a group of people that quickly dispersed the moment Liam came into view. Liam had mentioned that most of them were leeches (really though, they were those _other_ companies Veronica had been quick to point out a few days ago, the ones vying for the investor’s attention), were only there for business purposes.

“And what about you,” Veronica imposed. “You’re here for the same exact reason.”

“Snarky,” Liam had responded with. He then shrugged and took a sip of his drink before setting it on the tray of a passing waiter. He’d turned to her just after he’d done it, and without missing a beat, he went on to add, “I’d like to believe I have more class. It does well to be a little narcissistic in my profession. You just have to know when and _how_ to use it.”

So, of course Liam’s willing to play a dangerous game, but he’s learned the trick of the trade years ago. And that leads Veronica’s thoughts to one of a much younger Liam. As far as she knows, they’re nearly the same age, maybe a few years in difference, give or take. Even still, it’s hard to imagine an adolescent Liam, a suit too big for his body, running errands, being yelled at for his mistakes, his first big victory, and a paycheck to compensate for long hours at the office.

Veronica wonders if that boyish look that Liam gets on his face sometimes when he’s happy is reminiscent of Liam at a different age, youthful and not as quick with his mind as he is today. It’s a nice notion to think about, and maybe it’s something that Veronica should’ve done at a later time because she’s soon drawn away from staring out into the sea of people at the party by a hand on her wrist.

At first, she thinks it’s Liam trying to gain her attention, but it’s not. It’s the woman that Mr. Wilson has come with. She’s eyeing the dainty little bracelet that belongs to Veronica. The woman - who hasn’t even been introduced, and Veronica has a feeling that that’s not going to be happening at any point tonight - eventually lets go and glances up at Veronica as if she’s aware that the other woman is looking at her now. She gives a smile, and then her eyes return to Veronica’s wardrobe with a slow examination.

“Your dress,” she eventually speaks with an accent that Veronica isn’t used to hearing given that everyone around them sounds the same. “Who’s it by?” She’s foreign, very beautiful in Veronica’s opinion, and it’s no doubt that her blonde hair and pretty blue eyes are a stark contrast against the normalcy that makes up Veronica. Her hair is a deep shade of brunette, and she’s got hazel eyes, high cheekbones (usually with glasses resting upon her face, but she gave them up tonight for comfort, beauty, and contacts), and while Veronica’s never really felt inadequate for the features she’d been graced with, the way the woman looks at her is something she’s definitely familiar with.

Mostly those looks come after the fact that people find out about Veronica and her identity, the way she chooses to identify, at least. It’s few and far between when those happen because it’s not that Veronica makes a habit out of telling the world about her gender, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt or happen any less.

And right now, it kind of does. Veronica doesn’t have an answer. The little tag sewn into the back of the dress is probably still there; however, to look at it wasn’t really the main priority of the night. She feels herself scrambling for words, knows that she’s taking way too long to answer, and by that, she looks like a complete idiot. “I’m not sure,” she says hesitantly, smoothes a hand over the dress to give her some amount of comfort. It doesn’t work, and all that does is make her realize the fabric of her dress compared to those wearing other garments, differ greatly. Veronica doesn’t stand out, not with all of these elegant dresses in her midst, and really, she didn’t think she’d be scrutinized for her attire; at least, not at this level.

She avoids looking down at herself because then, she thinks, it might make how she feels extremely noticeable. That’s the last thing Veronica wants a perfect stranger to see.

The woman doesn’t respond, but she does look disinterested after that, and Veronica is somewhat glad. That is, until she’s pulled back into a conversation she hadn’t even know she was apart of.

“And he’s treating you well?”

Veronica goes a bit wide-eyed, not really sure how to respond. The context could mean anything, and when Liam looks back at her with enough strength for two, she returns her attention to Mr. Wilson and says, “He’s brilliant.”

“He ought to,” the man continues, “with a beauty like you.”

The arch in her brow cannot be helped, and she has to forcefully school her face into one less threatening. Niceties aren’t her forte, especially when they come from men like him, and Veronica would hate to compromise a piece of her integrity to help Liam. She’s about to say as much too, but Liam, with his hold still on her arm, releases it in favor of sliding his hand down to take hers. From there, he gives her hand a squeeze, the crinkles by his eyes very prominent and not because he’s amused. “Stealing ladies isn’t in your books, Mr. Wilson,” Liam says with a narrow tone to his voice. It might as well be clipped, but it’s not as if anyone else would be able to read it unless they knew the boss so well.

“No harm,” Mr. Wilson says with as much tact as he can muster. “They never last long, do they?” He’s oh so bold, and that line has the woman to his right feeling on edge. Veronica has a moment where she feels sorry for her, but she guesses it’s the nature of the business.

Thing is, Veronica could say the same about Liam, honestly. The women he’s gone through, Veronica could count on more than one hand, and that’s since the moment she’s worked for Mr. Payne. But, she thinks, it’s also important to remember that Liam doesn’t set out with the intention to use them. And maybe Veronica’s wrong with believing that, but she’s spent enough time at her desk, ordering flowers and writing notes that have come directly from Liam in order to please his then girlfriend. Liam may run through them, and someone like Mr. Wilson may take Liam for the type of man that typically all businessmen are (ruthless, unapologetic, demanding, and egotistical), but he’s always had a heart that’s cared.

Or maybe she’s just convinced herself that’s the case?

Either way, Liam doesn’t look comfortable, and that should cast away any doubts she has. Veronica knows better, trusts her instincts when it comes to the people she puts her faith in, and sure, this could be an infatuation where she’s blinded herself when it comes to a man she’s got feelings for, but she’s always been practical too. Veronica may not be a lot of things, but she’s not _stupid_ , and she’d rather go with her gut than let a man like Mr. Wilson define Liam like he knows him.

Because at the end of the day, he doesn’t. Veronica doesn’t either, not really, but she knows him a lot more than some man with entitlement written all over him.

And maybe that’s why it finally clicks as to why Veronica’s here. Sure, Liam could’ve handled this by himself. If anything, Veronica is just arm candy for the night, but that’s not exactly true because Liam’s showing Mr. Wilson an image of what he _likes_ to see, and maybe Veronica was stupid enough to believe that the only card they had going for them was the investor’s son - the golden key to the bank vault - but Liam is tactical and resourceful, and he knew right of the bat what Veronica did not. And whether he purposefully kept that from her or not, she may never know, and that’s okay because Liam’s already got this; he’s figured out a way to keep Mr. Wilson happy, and it’s partially at her expense.

She should be angry, but Veronica also knows that Liam didn’t just use her; he needed her here to not only follow through with his plan, but be his backup in case he felt like he couldn’t work with it; the only reason being for that would’ve been guilt. Veronica’s not only here for an image, but for Liam’s sake, lest he cross a line he wouldn’t ever be able to get back over again.

It’s not hard to see that he does feel it, the guilt; she sees it in his eyes when she glances over at him, and he can’t be bothered to look at her. And all she can do is stand here and look at him in wonder rather than hate or cruel thoughts.

Veronica’s seen Liam as a lot of things, mostly as her boss, but she thinks this is the first time she’s ever seen him weak, and to be honest, she doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“Oh, I think you’d be surprised, Mr. Wilson,” Liam says through the course of expanded silence. “There’s always that one person out there that sticks around a little longer than you could’ve possibly imagined.”

For Veronica, that’s where the conversation ends. She’s not addressed again, and the only thing she really feels is the way Liam squeezes her hand every so often. It’s hard to find it in herself to be dazed by that, the fact that his fingers are intertwined with hers. This might be the only time it’ll ever happen in her life, and she should cherish it. Yet, the only thing she really wants to do is pull Liam aside and ask him if he’s okay. He’s been here long enough, and the strain of being around such people is obviously taking its toll.

For a moment, Veronica regrets even suggesting Liam attend the charity..

This was her idea, wasn’t it? The perfect plan to show her skills and prove that she’s more than just a dimwitted secretary.

Though, was it really worth it in the end? Liam’s got his presentation, and that will most likely be enough in a matter of days before Mr. Wilson shows up at the office and gives a decision they don’t even really know if he’s going to making. This was extra security, and it was at the expense of not just Veronica but of Liam, too.

If anyone should feel anything remotely close to anger, it should be Liam.

At some point, Mr. Wilson leaves them be, and as soon as they’re out of sight, Liam (who still has a hold of her via his grip on her hand) leads her away from the masses of people and down a corridor that’s well lit with lights and wallpaper that gleams under the luster.

The voices grow quieter, and on her way, she spots Harry eyeing them from across the room. He looks worried, and maybe that’s because she looks startled enough, but she waves nonetheless.

That’s all he needs to know in order for him to understand that she’s okay. They both are.

+

There’s a balcony that overlooks part of the city, and Veronica’s leaning against the edge while a light breeze cups her hair and moves it away from her face. No longer does she care about the way her hair looks and if her cheeks flush a deep shade of red. It’s beautiful out here, and the murmurs of people speaking to one another are behind her, quiet and nearly dull when the lights before her shine so brightly. “I never should’ve suggested you coming here tonight,” she says. Liam’s sitting down at a table. Convenient is what it is, all made of marble with soft cushions so the stone doesn’t carry its cold through the body. “Never should’ve felt like I knew what I was doing either.”

Liam doesn’t make a sound, and he’s probably watching her. Veronica’s shoulders are practically bare save for the thin material of her dress, and she ought to be cold, but she’s not. The stuffiness of inside fades away, and she wonders if Liam brought her out here so she could apologize, somewhere where they could hear one another clearly. “Veronica,” her boss says as if he’s chastising her. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I made you come to an event you wanted nothing to do with,” she explains. “Plus, it’s only fair that you dragged me along for it.”

The chair scrapes against the ground, and Veronica feels Liam’s presence as soon as he stands beside her, leaning forward on the balcony and looking at the same view she has.

“I asked you here tonight because I didn’t have a date, not because I felt like I had to drag you into anything. Which,” he emphasizes, “I should be the one apologizing for dragging you into something you hardly knew anything about.”

She looks to her side, finds Liam’s gaze straight ahead, and he looks so much more relaxed in his tux now that he’s away from the crowd. “You shouldn’t apologize either.”

Liam ducks his head as his fingers dance against the concrete. “Was more afraid of what I’d do if I was alone rather than having someone here with me.”

And obviously their conversation is still on the investor, but it’s taken a slightly different turn. “You don’t have to compromise yourself. There are plenty of other millionaires out there who’d love the chance to get to work with you.”

The man beside her chews on his lip and shrugs. “That still doesn’t change the fact that he is who he is, and I get stuck working with men like him because it’s not _me_ who’s compromising themselves, Veronica.” He shakes his head, and some of his hair falls away from the gel that had been holding it in place. “He does; he _did_ , though. He proved the kind of man he was, and because of that, he lost himself within a foolish plot that he should’ve been able to pick up on from a mile away.” It’s not loneliness that seeps into the corner of Liam’s eyes, but something similar to it. It’s a mixture anger and agony, that morals have been misplaced, and for once, Veronica gets to witness the turmoil of Liam’s business. The sacrifices he makes to his dignity eat at him little by little, and maybe Liam’s at a point where he’s beginning to question the kind of path he’s going down. “He fell for it because of greed, Veronica. Because he’s been blindsided by the pleasures of life, and if that doesn’t scream lack of character and lost ambition, I don’t know what does.”

“You’re not like him,” she announces roughly. If that’s what he needs to hear, then so be it. The basic idea of the conversation might be lost by now, but their plan is still in motion, and Liam made it possible. It just took a little side trip to get there. “You’re smart, and you may play at their weaknesses, but who showed them first?”

Liam snorts, and Veronica doesn’t think she’ll ever tire of the way Liam’s smile slowly grows upon his face. It’s a wonder all in itself, how the corners of his lips quirk up, and his eyes soon join him in merriment. “Spoken like a true businessman.”

To lighten the mood, Veronica nudges him with her shoulder. “Spent the past few weeks learning from the best, if I do say so myself. And if anything, you’re going to come out on top of all of this. That’s how it works with you, yeah?”

Pursing his lips is something that Liam Payne should never be allowed to do, not with how pink and plush they are. And to Veronica, it’s simply not fair having to watch him ponder her words. He goes to speak, though, probably has a remark on his mind, but Veronica doesn’t let him voice it, would rather not hear his modesty because when Veronica compliments the man, she means it, and she refuses to accept that people don’t take them for what they are. Liam’s that kind of person, she knows; so humble and willing that she decides to focus on something else less trivial. “Besides,” she starts, “you clean up really well, don’t you?” She pulls herself away from the balcony’s edge, hoping Liam might follow her lead. And when he does, she takes him in like he had done to her the moment he spotted her just minutes after her arrival.

Liam arches a brow, looks down at his attire like he’s trying to see what she does, and when he goes in with, “I dress like this everyday?” Veronica can’t help the bubble of laughter that escapes her.

“Indeed,” she agrees. “But it’s a new suit, isn’t it?” And then she flushes because she shouldn’t really know that. It’s not as if she’s been in his closet, but Liam likes black, looks good in gray, and hardly ever wears navy. He’s simple but always clean-cut, and she can’t help but notice that this outfit he’s got going on is a little more on the expensive side. (And who is she kidding? All of his attire is expensive as hell. Liam is no cheapskate, but this fits a little tighter, brings out the sharpness of his shoulders and makes him look like a shark, precise and devilishly handsome). “Well,” Veronica dips her hand, indicating his shoes, and it’s a miniscule prod meant to do nothing more than lighten the mood, “your shoes could be better. Lost a bit of their shine, haven’t they?”

The boss snickers and scuffs his shoes against the ground without any protest. While shoving his hands into his pocket, his stance a little more relaxed now that they’re out of the war zone of deep conversation, he nods to her, gesturing down to her own feet. “You’re one to talk,” he says. “Walking in those things can’t be easy or practical, really.”

Veronica shrugs and rolls her eyes, and it’s not strictly out of disagreement because part of it’s true. Why women feel the need to walk on heels not even an inch thick - that most likely causes more falls than anything else in the universe - is beyond her; however, there’s also the feeling of sexiness, the way it sets a stance, shoulders squared, legs elongated. No, not very sensible but definitely glamorous and one of the main highlights of learning to pass as a proper woman. Veronica likes men shoes too, or at least what’s defined as men's, but the moment she’d seen a pair of heels, well, the fate of her feet had been sealed. “Took me a long time to learn,” she says quietly, nearly under her breath.

Liam’s heard her, and he looks mildly confused at the statement, but Veronica doesn’t take it any further than that, not ready nor willing to explain what she means. The memories and the recollection of having Eleanor help her are so very close to the touch, it’d be hard to explain them now. Instead of making things anymore awkward, and to draw all attention away from herself, Veronica gives her boss a simple, “Thank you.”

Liam tilts his head slightly, trying his best to read her, silently asking what she means by that. And it’s not until Veronica answers with, “For inviting me tonight,” that Liam waves her off with nothing more than a, “Please don’t.” And he smiles like that’s supposed to keep the hurt he’s suddenly feeling at bay. “I never meant to drag you into any of this, and I wouldn’t’ve if she had just shown up tonight.”

Now, Veronica remembers a phone call where Liam specified that his date cancelled, and while she wasn’t privy to who it was exactly, she just figured it was one of his new friends… that just so happened to be a girl, or more. Veronica hates guessing here. “You were stood up? I thought you said they cancelled?”

Playfully, Liam rests a hand over his heart for a wounded affect. “Give it to me straight, why don’t you.”

And she winces, definitely not meaning to be so harsh with that revelation. “But why?” The question is perfectly legitimate, and maybe Veronica doesn’t have the right to ask it, but _Liam_ being _stood up_ is such a laughable thought. Who in their right mind would do such a thing? And yeah, sure, this isn’t exactly the party of the year or anything, but it’s Liam of all people, and if there’s anyone Veronica would want to suffer with, it’d be him (putting all biasedness aside).

Instead of receiving an answer full of words, Liam looks away and back out to the city. He can’t be read, his face a blank slate, but Veronica’s got a bit of a hunch just how terrible he feels.

“That’s an awful thing for anyone to do,” Veronica says, trying to make the situation right. It won’t make up for whoever bailed on Liam, the one person he had intended to bring tonight. It’s the only consolation she can offer, and it’s not much, but at least it’s something. Whether Liam accepts that is up to him.

“Don’t think she was my type,” Liam admits. He adjusts himself, leaning against the balcony again, and Veronica suddenly feels bad for putting him in this position. She’d only wanted to express her thanks, and in the long run, it only made things worse. “Or the other way around. Seems that’s how its been working lately.”

And Veronica isn’t sure how much she should listen to this. Being a good friend is one thing, but hearing Liam as he speaks of his previous relationships wouldn’t bode well for Veronica in terms of her feelings. Of course, she’d cast them aside as much as she can, try not to let the jealousness flood her veins or allow her heart to soak up inadequacy like a sponge. There’s also the fact that well, she really doesn’t know how to help him. It wouldn’t be wise to give him advice, make him see that the kind of women that he goes for (well, Veronica’s not afraid to admit to herself that maybe _they_ find _him_ ) are not the only ones in the world, that the world is made up of billions of people and while that might sound completely daunting, it only means that there are choices. There’s millions of choices to be made, and Liam is in such a position that he could be making as many as possible.

Then again, his current ones haven’t been the best. So maybe he does need a little guidance, but it certainly isn’t going to come from Veronica. Not with her feelings, her being involved, and the pain it would take to actually tell him to move on and try again. “I’ve high hopes for you, Liam,” she decides to say. “Call me cliché, but I think anyone would be lucky to have you, and if they can’t compromise for the sake of a relationship, then really, what’s the point?”

Liam does give her a sad kind of smile, shaking his head in agreement. “I think it’s rather unfortunate that it’s taken me this long to really get to know you.”

Veronica’s not expecting that admission, but not only is it a change of topic, it’s a realization on Liam’s part. Whatever it means, Veronica doesn’t know, but the feeling she gets as those words linger in the air feel nice as they warm up her heart. She can’t say she’s ever been in love, but if there’s one thing Veronica does know, it’s that love does consist of happiness, and if that joy means it’s only for one other person to experience - in this case, Liam - then so be it. Veronica would rather just see him happy than anything else in the world, be it single or in a relationship. Just happy. That’s it. That’s all. Liam can’t promise that’ll happen for himself, but as Veronica stands out here, looking at all of the lights and glancing upwards, hoping to find a star, she wishes for it, that the one person she could very well see herself in a relationship with finds what he’s always wished for. Liam may be a cheesy romantic, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the very best.

Veronica may not be that for him, ever, but she does take notice that he was the first one she called after his date ditched him. And, if anything, that means something, not what she’s hoping or looking for, but it does mean a lot more than she could’ve possibly imagined.

They don’t sit out here for long, and when Liam eventually leads her back inside, everyone is pretty much in the same position they were in before.

Harry eventually makes his way over to steal Veronica away, and Liam understands, tells her that he’ll be leaving now that their work is done.

And so Veronica thanks him for tonight, wishes him well and hopes he gets home safe.

Liam only responds by telling Harry goodbye before turning to Veronica, leaning forward and pressing his lips to her cheek. “No,” he whispers. “Thank you.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Veronica completely flushed and in awe until Harry snaps her out of whatever kind of daze she’d been in.

“Ready?” he asks. Other than that, he makes no comment on what just happened, doesn’t even ask her about where Liam had lead her off to. And part of Veronica is grateful for that; the other half of herself wants to talk about it, though, let Harry know just exactly how both Liam and herself function together.

“Yes,” she responds quickly so that he’s not left waiting. And while they do receive a few glances, no one else bothers them, and Veronica can’t help but feel slightly weightless. Happy, even. It’s not a new feeling, but it does feel good to drive home while a mildly drunk Harry spills stories of how he’d practically had every lady fall for him the moment he opened his mouth.

Exaggerations, sure. But Harry isn’t always a sloppy drunk, and Veronica not only feels good about her interaction with Liam tonight, but also because of the fact that Harry looks _alive_ , green eyes sparkling as they roll down the windows and turn up the music as they drive down the highway.

It’s odd to say that someone like Harry needed tonight, but he did.

Veronica finds herself silently thanking Liam once again.

+

“As far as I know, he’s been in there since seven this morning, possibly even longer. I think it’s best if you go talk to him.”

Veronica hasn’t even had time to set down her things before a worried Marcel is bombarding her. Leeroy’s in tow, and his eyes keep flicking between Veronica, and Liam’s office.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re continuously trying to set me up to get fired,” Veronica proceeds to say. “First you couldn’t handle waking him up, and now you want to send me into the lion’s den on one of the most important days of our boss’ career.”

Marcel doesn’t look apologetic, not at all. The only thing that changes in his demeanor is the way his eyebrows raise up above his glasses, straight into his hairline. The way he makes several hand gestures that indicate the fact that she better get a move on is quite noticeable, too.

“It’s kind of like your job, though, isn’t it?” Leeroy finally chimes in. “Being his secretary and all.”

Veronica makes it to her workstation, has just enough time to slip off her jacket and push her purse under her desk for safe keeping before she’s rolling up her sleeves and cocking an eyebrow. “I’m not _his_ secretary,” she urges. “I’m _the_ secretary. There’s a difference.”

“Well, considering how close you two have been-” Marcel begins to say, but then he’s interrupted by Leeroy’s eyes going wide and exclaiming, “Oh? Do tell!”

And honestly, it looks like Marcel’s about to do it too until Veronica snaps her fingers and brings them back to the topic at hand. “Children, the both of you. Can’t believe you’re scared of a grown ass man.” Despite having spent a few extra minutes on her hair, Veronica runs her hand through it, tugging gently at the roots. It’s not that she’s frustrated, really, just nervous. Liam’s got something important going on today, and while she won’t be privy to the meeting, that doesn’t mean she can’t be anxious _for_ him.

“Said man is the boss,” Leeroy says defensively.

“Besides,” and while Marcel’s known to be quite timid in certain situations, edgy and weak, that doesn’t mean he’s not well educated; it also doesn’t mean that he’s that way around his friends because with the way he’s got this knowing look on his face, leaning against Veronica’s desk as if he holds all the answers in the world in the palm of his hand, that does nothing to ease Veronica’s mind when it comes to what he’s about to say next. “He likes you, and if anyone has less of a chance of getting fired, it’d be you.”

As much as Veronica would like to comment on that, it’d only end up in a spat between the two of them, casually trading remarks until one of them backed down. Marcel may be one of those people who is an easy fly on the wall, but no one should make the mistake of doubting what he’s capable of. So, Veronica settles for a look, and Marcel probably takes it for a victory, but it doesn’t matter as Veronica leaves the two worrisome employees behind for the break room.

If there’s one thing that’s going to make today better, it’s by preparing, and what better way to do that than coffee? Liam will need some; hell, _she’s_ going to need some, and it’s only a good idea to have it ready for whenever Mr. Wilson decides to show up. Veronica hadn’t had a chance to look at her books because of Leeroy and Marcel, but the date and time have been circled in red ever since she had to pencil in the meeting in the first place. It’d be stupid of her not to remember it now.

As soon as she’s got the coffee going, Veronica steps to the side, plays around with her phone for a bit before the beverage is done. She’s not a huge fan of the stuff, it mostly too bitter for her liking, but there are a few occasions where she downs it when she’s in need of extra caffeine to make it through a particularly long day. She makes two cups, one for herself, and one for Liam and braces herself for the task ahead. All seems so paramount, really, how she’s taken on this project as her own. It’s not, and to be fair, she could back out and give Liam the space he needs because ultimately this is his job, but Veronica feels partly responsible, and she thinks it’d be silly not to see this out. The verdict and the message of the meeting will soon spread over the entire office - throughout the whole company, in fact - and so yes, maybe Veronica does want a bit of an exclusive. That doesn’t make her a terrible person. Hopefully.

Either way, she takes the mugs of coffee, hot and steaming and manages to get out the door with no problem. She passes a few people, those whose desks are closest to the break room, who typically take up all of the coffee since the office runs on more of a first come, first serve basis. Veronica is gladly able to avoid accidents, but nearly has a spill when someone bumps into her shoulder. She knows who it is, saw it coming and can’t find it in herself to tell him off. She simply gives him a look, _excuse you_ before pushing past him to her intended destination. Whether he’s the one that wrote the notes, Veronica might never know, but she definitely hasn’t forgotten what he said to her. At least this time around, he’s got enough decency to keep his dirty look between the two of them, probably afraid to open his mouth around other people lest they actually scold him for being rude. Veronica knows that not everyone in the office is cruel; sure, they gossip, and while she’s been the center of it lately (well, according to Leeroy, it’s died down considerable, which only makes her sigh in relief), at least they keep it to themselves without making a fool out of her. While it may not be ideal to be talked about, Veronica would rather be oblivious to their words than know anything at all. Ignorance is bliss.

Liam’s office door is wide open when she gets there. He’s sitting as his desk, and there’s a woman on the couch. It’s silent, and Veronica’s not quite sure of the atmosphere, whether things are tense or just quiet. So, she knocks softly, smiles gently when Liam sees her and welcomes her in.

Veronica doesn’t really give much of her attention to the woman. She doesn’t know who she is, or where she stands as of this moment, but it can’t be anything good when she keeps staring at Veronica like she doesn’t belong here. “I brought you coffee. It’s the bland kind from the break room,” she says, trying to break the silence and explain her visit. “I didn’t know you’d be in this early; otherwise, I would’ve brought you something else.”

The mugs are set down directly on Liam’s desk. Her intention was to slide one over to him and then take the other one back, give her hand a rest from the warmth. However, she doesn’t have that opportunity when Liam takes his (looks completely grateful for the beverage) with Veronica eventually going for her own only to find it in the hands of the woman standing right next to her.

And how Veronica missed that, she’ll never know. She’s typically good with surprises, knows that familiar feeling of people’s presences, but she’s startled, and a little mournful because there goes her coffee. If she were to head to the break room now, it’d probably be gone, and there’d be no point. Making more isn’t that big of a hassle, but for whatever reason, the company goes through coffee like it’s crack, and Veronica knows that keeping the extra stash a secret was probably the most brilliant plan she’s ever had.

“Um,” Veronica starts, doesn’t even know where to begin, really. According to Marcel, Liam was worried out of his mind, but by the looks of it, he’s already got company, and really, there’s no need for Veronica to be here. So, either Liam has it under control now, or Marcel just sent her in here for no reason.

Well, _he_ had a reason to do it, the smug little bastard.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Taking a step back, Veronica waits for instructions and isn’t bothered by the lack of a thank you from either party. “Marcel might’ve mentioned something about you being-”

And she trails off because that’s not really something she should mention. Whether Liam is high-strung is his own business and confronting him about it not only reassures him that people talk about him but are also nosy.

Liam raises his eyebrows though, as if he wants her to continue. For just a moment, Veronica chews on her bottom lip and hopes that something might save her from explaining. However, she's not so lucky this time around and proceeds with, "-on edge, just a bit." Then, she holds up her thumb and forefinger for emphasis before returning to her lip biting.

Liam seems reserved for the most part, watching Veronica intently as if pondering her suggestion. "It's that obvious, then."

Which is a comment least expected, but Veronica takes it for what it’s worth, shouldn’t be at all surprised with how Liam operates at this point. Her reasons for nervousness are probably still hidden under the guise that well, he’s the _boss_ , after all, and that does, in a way, instill fear into the employees. Veronica should know better than that by now.

“Wasn’t meant as a bad thing, really,” she says in defense. “Just an observation, and I’d say it’s perfectly normal.”

It’s probably best described as a scoff that emits from behind Veronica, and while she does turn briefly to inquire the issue that might’ve arisen, all she sees is the nameless woman sitting on the couch, cross-legged and a little skeptical. “Liam doesn’t get nervous, do you?” she asks, directing her gaze upon the man. There’s pause for an answer, though, before she’s off speaking again. “He’s quite confident in his abilities, and even then, he manages to make up for the few downfalls he does have, if any.”

Veronica hasn’t turned back to Liam, not yet, at least, because she doesn’t really know what to do. The woman looks sure of herself, a little demeaning if Veronica’s honest, and that leads her back to looking at Liam to see where she should go from here. And while she’s certain that Liam’s supposed to look like nothing previously said had bothered him, he’s doing a terrible job at disguising it. There’s no doubt that Liam’s posture is a lot more slack, lips drawn into a thin line, and whatever is going on, Veronica is not privy to it. There is no silent conversation going on here, but there is an underlying _something_ she’s missing. The context in which Liam’s girlfriend - or whatever the hell she is at the moment - is lost, with the only two people who can translate it currently in a tense room with a secretary who now feels completely out of place.

“That may be the case,” Veronica proceeds to say; this should be kept short and simple, a small bit of hope before she bows out and lets whatever edge disperse without her involvement, “but I think worry keeps you on your feet, and if that’s what you do feel, then use it.” Liam is now staring at her through the thick of his eyelashes. They may not be very long or very dark, but they do frame those beautiful brown eyes. And while his face may resemble that of annoyance, Veronica’s pretty damn certain he’s also trying to convey his gratitude. “The moment Mr. Wilson gets here, I’ll send him to the conference room before letting you know.”

Just before she leaves, Veronica notices the way that the corners of Liam’s mouth curves upwards just like so. It’s so slight, and she barely even caught it herself, but it’s there. The only way she finds it acceptable to respond - because they’re certainly having their _own_ silent conversation now - is to give him a wink right before she turns on her heel.

Veronica doesn’t give herself time to think about what she’d done and whether or not Liam might think she’s implying anything. She was, in a way, a truce amongst friends, helping one another get through a difficult situation. Sure, Liam’s been nervous about this a lot lately - more so than Veronica’s ever seen him before, but an investor in the company may or may not be leaving, taking a huge portion of his money with him. Regardless of status or trying to seem like he’s a _man_ with no emotion, Veronica thinks it’d be unfortunate and worrisome for everyone else here at the company if Liam _wasn’t_ bothered.

For some reason, Veronica feels resolute and grounded. Maybe she’s put her own apprehension away because her boss has enough for the two of them, but there’s not even an inch of doubt in her bones. Whatever Mr. Wilson wants, Veronica’s confident enough to know that there _will_ be a solution. Her faith might be too strong, but she’s always had a fair intuition.

+

Veronica escorts Mr. Wilson into the office five minutes after eleven o’clock. She’d greeted him casually and ignored the way he could feel his stare as she walked ahead of him. Not only that, but she had to turn a blind eye to the way he regarded her whenever he realized that she was _just_ the secretary. Veronica may be just that, but she’s also very proud of her little area in the office. It’s the first thing people see, and she’s rather happy she keeps it clean and professional. It sets a certain kind of mood.

After she offers him a beverage - one he declines - she exits the room with a smile, immediately heading for Liam’s office. He’s still at his desk, and whether he’s moved since Veronica last saw him, she doesn’t know. But whatever the case, he’s got maybe ten minutes to himself before he’s going to have to move anyway.

“Mr. Payne,” she calls softly. When his attention is on her, she nods once, and that’s all he needs to know.

“Thank you,” he replies, standing up and buttoning his suit jacket.

And while Veronica plans to turn away to leave Liam to conduct his business, he calls for her before she can slip away. “Yes?”

“Will you do me another favor?”

Of course, Veronica’s full intention is to pause for just a moment, consider what Liam will be asking her before she actually answers. However, she blurts out a quick, “Sure.”

So much for reeling in her self control.

There’s no doubt that Liam looks surprised and relieved all at once. He seems to think that maybe asking Veronica if she’s absolutely certain is the next thing he should say, but he reconsiders it, replaces those words with, “Do you mind if you could keep an eye on Alexa for me?”

That name does not ring any bells, but Liam looks at Veronica like she already knows who he’s referring to. And well, she should, but it still takes her a moment for all of it to click. The girl from earlier, right. So, she’s finally got a name, and now Liam expects her to entertain her.

Of course, she definitely should’ve waited instead of being so eager to agree to fulfill a favor. This _Alexa_ is a grown woman, and Veronica really doesn’t have time to play babysitter. Yet, with Liam looking at her expectantly and her having already given her promise, Veronica simply says, “Okay.”

“Like,” and Liam scratches the back of his neck because _obviously_ there’s more to the story, and Veronica’s only here to sort it out, apparently, “tell me what you think of her later, maybe?”

Which, to say the least, is something new. Liam expecting Veronica to give him a report on the woman he’s dating (well, _possibly_ ; he still hasn’t confirmed that) is rather a weird turn of events. But given his track record (and just the other night when his other date bailed on him), maybe he’s becoming a little wiser and wants some input? “So-” Veronica says after she clears her throat to make sure there’s nothing there to make her sound off.

However, she doesn’t even get to finish because Liam beats her to it. “I’m giving her a second chance, I guess.” And he shrugs like he isn’t really sure of that statement. “It’d be nice to know whether I’ve done the right thing, especially coming from someone I trust.”

Although, it’s quite funny because if Veronica is someone Liam trusts and not the girl he possibly wants to be with, then Veronica just wants to tell him that that pretty much says it all, doesn’t it? If Alexa’s done something in the first place to push Liam to his limits once, then what makes him think she’ll be any different later on down the line? Just because she’s here at the office, and just because Veronica’s trustworthy, isn’t going to mean much unless Liam decides for himself.

But, Veronica’s going to be nice, and she’s going to give Liam what he wants because she promised him before she knew what she was getting into. It’s also because Liam’s about to head down to the conference room while holding his breath, hoping that all will be well in terms of the company’s future. The least Veronica can do is to help him out with this one little burden. Alexa is the last thing he needs on his mind, especially if their relationship was what was causing that earlier tension rather than the meeting with Mr. Wilson.

And while there’s some rationality in Veronica’s decision, that doesn’t stop her from blurting out, “Well, you picked a fine day for personal troubles, didn’t you?” She smirks and shakes her head, and while that might’ve been a bit of a stretch, she’d only hoped Liam would take it for what it was worth: a joke.

It’s not that he doesn’t because he does smile along, too, but his demeanor says otherwise. “Figured it’d be easier dealing with stuff if she was around.”

It’s such a simple explanation and completely plausible. Although, Veronica can’t help but think that statement’s got something to do with sex. Either way, Liam’s allowed to deal with things his own way, and if it means bringing in a female friend, well, it’s not like he hasn’t done it before.

“Joking, Mr. Payne. I’m sure she’s perfectly fine.” By allowing herself to smile, it brings back a lot of reassurance, and not just for her sake. Liam looks pleased, a little brighter at that note, and as he gathers some papers and walks out of the office, leaving Veronica behind, she puts the meeting out of her mind and instead decides to focus on entertaining the guest.

Thing is, Veronica’s very quick to notice that yeah, Alexa hasn’t even been in the room the entire time she’s been standing here talking to her boss. There’s nothing like the swelling of dread that encompasses her stomach, and Veronica hopes she’s able to find the woman. Being alone on this floor isn’t necessarily a maze, but no doubt will she cause distractions if she’s out amongst the employees.

_Distractions_. Those that many here do not need.

Sighing, Veronica heads out in search for Alexa.

+

Leeroy might be completely asexual, but he’s typically shy when it comes to people he’s not familiar with. So, this means he nearly blushes through conversations regardless of gender. It also means that some girls get the wrong hint, and some men just find it rather endearing.

Which is why when Veronica finds Alexa leaned over Leeroy’s cubicle, she’s got to smother her laughter behind her hand when she finds him (and to be honest, a few of his surrounding fellow HR co-workers) highly embarrassed, looking guilty, and eyes darting every which way in order to relieve some of the tension he’s feeling in this given situation.

He’s also the first to notice Veronica approaching, and she can practically see his posture go from rigid to relaxed in less than a second now that she’s here to save the day. “Alexa?” she greets with caution. It is her name, according to Liam, but they’re practically strangers, and it’s out of courtesy that she make sure she’s getting it right. A confirmation is all she’s looking for.

The woman turns in Veronica’s direction, curiosity written upon her face until she realizes who it is. And it’s not that she looks like she detests Veronica, but the sharp glint in her eye does read rather questionable. “Just hoped you hadn’t gotten lost,” Veronica explains as she approaches the cubicle. “It’s a pretty big office.”

“How sweet,” Alexa replies, smiling. She looks like she means it, and maybe she does; at least she isn’t the kind to start anything, yet. “Liam talks so much about work so I figured I’d put names to faces.”

“Smart,” Veronica agrees. Really though, she’s got nothing to say to that. What her boss does in his spare time isn’t any of her business, but as much as the thought of Liam mentioning anything about the office _outside_ of said office, well, Leeroy even looks a little panicked at that. “Hopefully it’s all good things, though?”

Alexa seems distracted now; whatever conversation she’d been on about with Leeroy and the few people around them who’ve now settled back into their chairs, has been pushed aside for new inquiries. “Of course!” the woman insists. “Talks about some really great talent here. Leeroy being one of them.” Alexa nods in his direction, and the way he ducks his head, gaze flicking over to Veronica as if he needs her approval to feel good about the praise, only has her smiling in agreement.

“I’ll attest to that.” And she does. Leeroy’s kind to everyone, a little too happy at times, and when he’s _drunk_ , that’s a whole other story. But the most important thing is that he’s kindhearted. Aside from working with Marcel, Veronica really can’t think of anyone else she’d rather have the opportunity to get to work with.

Now, though, Veronica doesn’t waste too much time on sentiments. Instead, she shifts her body so that she’s leaning up against the wall of a cubicle herself. She’d hoped that maybe Alexa would request something, and they could make their way back to the lobby, near her desk, or at least Liam’s office, if anything. But Alexa seems dead set on continuing her train of thought, and Veronica doesn’t really know how to feel about that (let alone doesn’t really want to do this with her either).

Eventually, she goes on to say, “Funny though, was a bit surprised when you walked through the door. Wasn’t sure who you were at first until he said so.” And the way Alexa tilts her head and looks very easy with herself, the more a pit of dread seems to form in Veronica’s stomach. “He’s never really mentioned you. Figured he would’ve since you’re busy handling his appointments, but I guess it must’ve slipped his mind.”

Veronica knows she’s refraining from adding on the words _every time_ to that sentence. It’s really self-explanatory at this point and only a dig to get under her skin. It’s not going to work, and regardless of whatever else Alexa has to say, it’s not going to do much harm to Veronica either. See, just like Veronica had told Marcel and Leeroy that she’s _not_ Liam’s personal assistant, she meant it, and whether he chooses to discuss her in the privacy of his life, then that’s his decision. While there’s a little part of her that feels a little sting of disapproval for not being on Liam’s radar, not really _important_ enough to be discussed with other people, Veronica’s pretty set in her ways of knowing what she does for his company, that if she wasn’t here to save the day half the time when it came to schedules, conflicts, and phone calls, the office wouldn’t function half as well as she makes sure that it does.

She’s not trying to make herself important - maybe only a little bit to make up for the lack of a compliment on Liam’s part - but it’s the truth. They’ve got sales, HR, all the higher ups, artists, IT people, lawyers, and everything under the sun to make sure that the entire company prevails, but Veronica makes sure shit gets done, is the first to know when problems arise, and makes it a habit to keep the supplies stocked. She may not be creative or good at pitching ideas, but she’s brilliant at sitting behind a desk for long hours, making sure deadlines are met and people are taken care of.

So, instead of dropping a petty reply, or sinking to whatever level Alexa is intending to play at, Veronica only smiles and says, “I’m sure he’s too busy with you to be thinking about me anyway.” And sure, part if it sounds like self-deprecation, but it’s not. If this is Liam’s choice in a girlfriend - just like the rest of them Veronica’s met from time to time - then her statement is a piece of truth rather than anything else.

Alexa, for the most part, looks surprised. Maybe she had a snarky remark lined up and ready to reply to if Veronica actually went through with sinking to that level. But it’s never voiced, not when Veronica plays the nice card. “I’m sure you’re right.” Which is all the other woman says, and it feels like the ending of a conversation. Alexa takes it as such, giving her thanks to Leeroy before telling Veronica she’ll just head back to Liam’s office, that she knows the way there and doesn’t need an escort. And as she walks past the secretary, she makes no attempt to accidentally run into Veronica, nor does she look back like she’s trying to calculate where Veronica stands in this entire situation.

It’s probably one of the weirdest experiences Veronica’s ever had with any of Liam’s girlfriends. And there’s not really much she can do now but to go back to her post. The idea that Liam might even ask her how things went doesn’t really sit well with her, but at least Alexa’s been a lot nicer and genuine than the other pretty faces Liam’s brought to work with him.

“You know she’s the one that left Liam the night of the gala, right?”

Leeroy’s voice cuts into Veronica’s thoughts, and while it takes her a moment to think back on that night, her face twists up in confusion. “What?”

And the other man just shrugs. “She came over here because she was bored. What she said was true, about wanting to put names to faces, but she mouthed off about how coming here wasn’t anything enjoyable, said she wasn’t sure how we did it everyday.”

Well, Veronica can agree with that slightly. It’s _work_ , and not everyone really enjoys that. It’s long hours and early mornings, computer screens, and unusually bright lights. “And somehow this led you to believe she ditched him? Which,” and at this point, Veronica holds up her pointer finger for emphasis, “by the way, how do you know that?”

Leeroy looks caught, and although he shrugs, it’s obvious he’s lying. “You might want to pick a circle of friends who don’t all know one another.” It’s only an implication that someone didn’t keep their mouth shut, again.

Veronica rolls her eyes and breathes heavily out of her nose. The only reason Leeroy would even say that is because apparently her friends like to play telephone, especially as of late when it comes to her personal life. If it’s not Marcel telling Harry, it’s obviously someone else telling well, someone else. “I’m not even going to comment on that, then,” she says. “Just get to the point.”

“Dunno, she talks fast,” Leeroy shrugs again. “Just said stuff about Liam and _boring_ and _thank fuck I didn’t go with him the other night_. So,” the other man dips his head, just a little bit as if he’s laying out the rest of the sentence for her to finish.

“So, she basically left him to deal with the charity all on his own.” That statement sounds just as bad out loud as it did in her head. And granted, there’s not much she can do about this new discovery, but it does make Veronica’s heart hurt in sympathy. “Right, okay. Liam should be done with his meeting soon, hopefully, and then I think I’m going to spend the rest of my day thinking about how I can’t wait to get home just so I can drink myself to sleep.”

Veronica rubs at her forehead, already feeling the headache coming on. Leeroy looks a little out of sorts, but she smiles at him, pats the top of his cubicle as a sign of her getting ready to leave for her desk, only to reply with, “Thanks.” And whether her smile is sincere or not, Veronica doesn’t care at this point. Leeroy looks like he buys it, and that’s all that’s important.

She does head back to her desk, walking past Liam’s office to see whether Alexa kept her word. Veronica finds that she has because she’s sitting behind Liam’s desk, on her phone. After that, Veronica quickly walks away so that she’s not caught and turns her attention back to her work. Dealing with people is one thing, and waiting for Liam to get out of his meeting is another, and Veronica just doesn’t really want to focus on either right now.

Too bad she’s only given ten minutes before she hears that odd bit of laughter followed by Liam’s deep voice coming down the hall.

One of these days she’s going to use her unused sick days to take a vacation, and it’ll be oh so glorious.

+

It’s quite easy to make herself look busy. All Veronica has to do is pull up the calendar on the computer, pretend she’s entering in some appointments (or double-checking them, at least), and people think she’s doing her job. And she does, but honestly, there’s some days when her workload is next to nothing.

That, however, is not exactly the case right now. Veronica’s sure there’s something she really could be doing, but instead, she’s intent on faking it while simultaneously waiting for Liam and Mr. Wilson to round the corner. Her boss will be walking the investor to the elevator, and Veronica’s going to be able to play nosy and see exactly the kind of exchange they’ll have when Liam bids Mr. Wilson farewell. It’ll all be anti-climatic because she’s nervous over nothing, and everything’s going to work out perfectly fine.

Maybe. Maybe not.

She’s waiting, and Veronica would very much like it if these two men would walk a little faster. Their voices are so close to her vicinity, and it’s like she can nearly taste the outcome of hard work and mild desperation.

And then there they are, out of the corner of her eye, two men dressed in their sharpest suits proceed to walk past her desk. They pay Veronica no attention as they move along towards the elevators, Liam reaching forward to press the arrow that points downwards. Veronica tries her best not to look as if she’s openly staring. Even if Mr. Wilson has his back to her, eventually going out of sight as soon as he steps into the lift, it doesn’t mean that Liam wouldn’t notice her gaze if she stared for too long.

With each subtle glance, Veronica counts down until the elevator doors are closing, leaving Liam staring back with only a nod at the investor as a silent form of goodbye.

Nearly ten seconds after that, Liam’s turning sharply on his heel, and Veronica wastes no time clambering out of her seat to round her desk. She doesn’t even give Liam time to properly approach her before she’s asking, “Well?” At this point, Veronica can’t be bothered to worry about how intrusive she’s being, nor can she mask the inquisitiveness written upon her face. It must show in her eyes just how worried she is, though, regardless of the fact that she’s leaning against her desk, posture a little too rigid for someone who likes the side of being delicate a little too much.

And even as Liam approaches, he doesn’t answer her, either putting it off or probably waiting until he’s close enough to deny replying altogether. However, as Liam finally reaches the desk, stopping in front of Veronica and leaving about an arm’s length in space between them, he cracks a small smile. Once that happens, Liam can’t contain it because Veronica watches as it grows into something full blown with teeth, and crinkly eyes, and a release of happy laughter that can only mean one thing.

“You did it?!” His emotions are contagious, and Veronica normally reserves herself, she really does, but the burst of excitement and relief flood her veins so quickly that it’s quite hard to keep still.

Liam shakes his head, though, doesn’t dismiss Veronica’s response, nor does he retract his own. “ _We_ did it,” he says.

And while it might be nice to hear details, Veronica doesn’t really need that, now does she? The plans had been laid out perfectly, knew exactly what Liam would be proposing, and while negotiations typically involve bargains, none of that matters as long as the terms have been set. The boss is happy, and Veronica gets to experience _this_ with him.

It’s almost exclusive, this feeling. To share responsibility for a project and to see it come to fruition, Veronica’s experienced that before in her life with herself and when she was in school. But if there’s one thing she’s learned, it’s that none of it matters if it’s not shared with the _right_ people, and while it might be selfish of her to feel like she’s very glad that no one else got to experience this opportunity, she can’t help but feel the exact opposite of greediness. She was simply in the right place at the right time, and it’s simple knowing that this could’ve been Marcel in her position, or any one of the numerous employees on their level. It’s so easy for her to admit that they’re all talented and hardworking, but for once, Veronica gets the chance to feel like _more_ than just a backdrop, more than _just_ a secretary.

So on that note, that’s when Veronica is drawn away from Liam’s smiling face - his adorable cheeks and how they’re flushed red, brown eyes so very warm with merriment - because the next thing she knows, he’s embracing her. Liam is pulling Veronica into a tight hug, and the entire time, Veronica doesn’t know how to breathe. She finds herself wrapping her arms around him, very much a subconscious movement since she’s too busy pulled away from her happiness in favor of complete shock. And really, all it is is a simple hug, one where Liam’s got a hand around her waist, and one around her neck, much more casual than intimate.

Yet, she still feels dazed, and a little worried that she can smell his cologne and how his suit is very soft. She breathes it in and bites her lip and lets herself relax before Liam’s pulling away, resting his hands on her upper arms so he can say, “Thank you.”

Veronica’s very much inclined to wave him off, tell him that she merely _helped_ and done nothing more than that, but Liam looks so honest and kind as he stares at her. To say anything other than a _you’re welcome_ in response would be a disservice.

So, she doesn’t. Veronica doesn’t dismiss Liam’s gratitude, and lets him know that it was no problem because it wasn’t. It might’ve been setting herself up for a bit of heartache a little later on down the line, but at least she’d have a few memories to carry her along. She’s had the past few years she’s worked here to feel the way she does right at this moment, and yet, it’s the first time she realizes just how bloody deep she’s in. Liam’s literally standing here giving her praise, and Veronica stands before him without taking any of it for granted.

“-party,” Liam finishes saying.

And Veronica has to ask him to repeat himself, just one more time so she can make sure she’s actually paying attention to what Liam has to say.

“I want to hold an office party,” he says again, eventually removing his hands from Veronica’s arms. “Shower them with appreciation, I guess.”

This wouldn’t be the first time such a suggestion has been made. They’ve celebrated people’s birthday’s here before, small little get togethers, some cake, a couple of balloons, and then everyone’s back to work. But what Liam’s proposing now sounds a little bit more than anything done before, and Veronica hums because she’s only imaging how much farther they can take something like that.

Liam licks his lips and shoves his hands into his pockets, only to continue on with, “-just a nice restaurant where everyone can meet and have a good time.”

“Oh?” Really, though, Veronica can’t argue, nor does she really have anything to say about Liam’s proposal. It seems his mind is set on his idea, and it’s fine by her. Hanging out with a bunch of people from the office isn’t exactly her cup of tea - especially with the mystery person who’s had the nerve to continuously insult her - but it’d be nice to get out. She could tag along with Marcel and Leeroy, have a nice meal and a couple of drinks in her system. “Should I call around, see if I can find anything free-”

And while Veronica very much intends to take this into her own hands - after all, she’s good with appointments and dates - Liam shakes his head, quickly cutting her off and saying, “No, I’ll do it myself. Besides,” Liam adds, “it’ll be my treat.”

At that, Veronica’s eyes widen just a fraction of an inch, mouth going dry at the thought of how bloody expensive this all is going to be. Most in the office won’t bat an eyelash to that kind of expensive, but it’s Liam’s money, and he’s offering, and people will use that for justification.

She looks at him warily, though. “Are you sure?” Veronica doesn’t mean to insult him, and Liam doesn’t look like he has been either, but making sure that this is an idea he’s on board with, let alone stick with, is kind of important. “I’m pretty sure we’d all settle for a couple of donuts and better coffee in the morning. Something big like that isn’t necessary.”

Liam does purse his lips, taking thought into Veronica’s words. Although, it’s not long before he waves her off and produces another wide smile. “So, you’d be happy with some pens, then?”

Veronica has to hold back her laughter by biting her lip with her teeth, but that doesn’t stop the warmth of her soul from shining through her eyes because Liam remembered, and he’s making a joke out of her being humble. They stare at one another after that though, just a brief passing moment that feels nice, an inside joke shared and a personal victory for the both of them.

And while Veronica can’t take her eyes away from Liam, that doesn’t stop him from sobering up from his bit of wit he decided to display. His brown eyes do not dim, and his posture is as lax as Veronica thinks she’s ever seen. “This isn’t something that happens everyday, is it?” And he waits for Veronica to silently agree with him before he goes on, is careful with her current disposition as he transitions the conversation to the real meaning behind his offer. “There’s no harm in appreciating hard work and effort. I could argue that it was a win for me only, but it’s not.” When Liam looks down at the ground after he’s spoken, with his hands still shoved into his pockets, there’s nothing about him that says he resembles a man that is less than earnest. His sincerity shines through in a way Veronica’s never seen with anyone else, and despite Liam being a man who’s able to carry himself with dignity, it’s the humble kind without a lick of arrogance. “Today’s outcome proves beneficial to me but to all of you, too.” As Liam slowly glances up, he nods in the direction of his employees. Although, they’re hidden behind a divider that separates the lobby from those desks, it’s not hard to tell that Liam is picturing every single one of them. “Things might not change drastically, but imagine if I had failed?”

With that, Veronica gets it and is appreciative of the way that Liam doesn’t talk down to her because she doesn’t understand things. It’s how she’s able to clearly see Liam’s way of thinking, gives her a sliver of how he views the world, and it must be a nice place, Liam’s mind. Sure, it’s full of worries and self-doubt, those things Veronica had witnessed herself, but the incredible fact that he’s more than just a boss (he’s someone who genuinely _cares_ ) only inspires awe in someone like her.

Veronica doesn’t get the chance to answer him. She does hope that maybe something about her expression conveys exactly what she’s thinking, but there is no confirmation, not when there’s a clearing of the throat, and both Liam and Veronica’s attention is drawn away to a third party.

Alexa. She’s standing just outside Liam’s office door, bag in hand and an impatient look on her face.

Veronica’s back is to her, so she does have to strain to see all of the other girl, but she gives up, gives Liam one last look before she’s bowing out and simply returning to her desk. She doesn’t look back at Liam, and whether he glances over at her, their conversation now officially over, Veronica doesn’t know, can’t feel his eyes on her like she normally does.

And that’s okay. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal.

Liam clears his throat, too, and Veronica feels it when the air shifts. Her boss walks past her desk, and she knows where he’s headed, back to his place to entertain the guest, and certainly let her know that all is perfectly well. Veronica, on the other hand, sighs. She’s got to wiggle the mouse to the computer in order for it to pull up the previously forgotten calendar, resolute in finishing what she started with it.

However much time passes by, Veronica doesn’t know once she gets back into a work zone, but she eventually does complete her task. And once she’s done, exiting out of her programs and neatly putting things back into place on her desk, that’s when Liam appears once more.

Alexa is with him, walking ahead, and Veronica does her best to send them both a smile. And while the girl hesitantly gives one back to Veronica, it’s gone as soon as she put it there. The other woman’s aim is the elevator, and while she makes it there first, Veronica sees that Liam hesitates for nothing more than a moment.

There’s an exchange between the two of them, and despite the fact that Veronica’s openly staring, she can’t hear a thing. Their voices are hushed, and Alexa makes her way into the elevator before Liam’s turning on his heel. Veronica jumps a little, tries her best to look like she’s busy, but then Liam’s there in front of her, leaning over her desk just slightly before Veronica’s greeted with a thinned smile. “I’d like the honest truth,” he says, and as he does so, his eyes briefly flicker downwards, like he can’t believe he’s here right now, asking this of Veronica.

And for a moment, she’s completely confused, but the way Liam’s body is positioned along with _ding_ of the elevator door, it takes less than a second for Veronica to piece together what he’s asking. Which, there is no shame in that. Maybe it’d been a little weird of Liam to ask Veronica to assess his girlfriend to see whether or not she was _right_ for him, but Leeroy’s voice comes crawling out of the shadows the longer she sits in silence, Liam waiting on her to say anything at all. He looks like he’s about to give up, ask her to forget he said anything, but Veronica breathes in deeply and crooks the corner of her mouth upwards.

She’d be a fool to give a smile or even a smirk. Part of her feels like she should spit out what she really thinks, or whether or not she should ultimately lie. Though, this is Liam, after all. Veronica could be scared because he’s her boss, doesn’t want to tell him what to do with his personal life, but she’d like to believe that he’d asked out of friendship, as if he could trust her with such a thing, that she _wouldn’t_ lie to him because they’ve become acquainted with one another just recently. That’s a hard pill to swallow, the fact that Liam has good faith in her, but _because_ of that very reason, Veronica can’t bring it in herself to spoil whatever it is Liam’s got going for him.

Alexa hadn’t been rude. Maybe a little put off and bored. Working in an office or having to attend events like the charity would make anyone yawn, and even if Veronica does this for a living in order to pay bills, she thinks she might be the same way were she in Alexa’s shoes.

Despite not having come to a final decision on what she should say, Veronica goes for the simple, “She’s lovely.” Because Alexa was, or at least seemed like it. She might’ve not been happy to be here, but at least she hadn’t treated Veronica like she was the help.

To reassure Liam, Veronica gives her best smile and hopes that she doesn’t look fake. She’d probably tack on a thumbs up somewhere in there, but that might be pushing it. Either way, Liam seems to buy it, his face relaxing before he’s pushing away from Veronica’s desk. “Have a good day, then,” he says.

Veronica’s left with Liam turning his back on her to head to the elevator, and while she’d very much like to watch his retreating figure until he disappears behind those two metal doors, she resists, dropping her head into her hands only to rub her temples. There’s not many hours left to her day, and already, Veronica’s bed (with the inclusion of sleep) sounds like heaven.

++

_Zayn meets Liam when he’s nearing his twenty-fourth birthday. He thinks it’s hilarious that he’s met people consecutively the past three years. But he figures it’s got to do with God wanting to give him a clean slate for the new year._

_And boy is Zayn lucky._

_Liam is everything Zayn could've hoped for in a friend and as a boyfriend. Thing is, despite the stars in his eyes, it's something he knows will not happen. Zayn knows straight men, and the chance that Liam could take on him is nonexistent._

_It doesn't stop him from dreaming, though. Liam's very much a gentleman despite his status at the company. He’s polite and caring and makes sure to say hello to Zayn every morning before heading into his office._

_The only downfall is that Zayn quickly learns the other side to Liam’s life. All he’d seen for the first couple of months while working the job Marcel had managed to help him get, was the kind of world Liam frequented with his work, it having a huge hold over his life, along with various women that tended to hang off his arm._

_There’s at least five different ladies within the first year alone, and while Zayn’s not one to judge personal relationships, each one ends the same, with said pretty thing storming out of the office in a fit of rage and Liam dedicating those extra hours usually spent with his partner to work. No point in not using that free time when there’s no longer a pastime._

_With all of this, though, it sounds as if Zayn might be jealous, and on a certain level, maybe he is, but it’s a lot more sad than anything else. He knows when things get rough, sees the signs way before shit hits the fan and watches Liam drown himself in a bottle of liquor and days full of work to get his mind off of the entire thing._

_In reality, it’s not healthy, but Zayn’s not important enough to comment. So, he does his best with coffee and warm smiles, soothing words and being extra helpful._

_That’s around the time when Marcel becomes aware that Zayn’s more than a little smitten. And that’s also when the teasing begins. All in good fun, that is, but still. That knowing look in his friend’s stare, well, sometimes it’s enough for Zayn to roll his eyes and tell him to fuck right off._

++

So, it turns out that Liam’s actually _a lot_ more fun when he’s dressed down and has a couple of drinks in him. He’s nowhere near drunk yet, but that doesn’t stop Veronica’s little group from laughing at him as he karaoke's with a couple of people from the office. Liam had been right about doing something nice for everyone, and of course, no one actually believed it until an official email had been sent out. Veronica had gotten one, too, and the warmth in her tummy hasn’t gone away since that moment.

Marcel and Leeroy are with her, across the booth and too busy snacking on a plate of fries and enjoying the show. They hadn’t made a huge fuss to Veronica about the party. In fact, Marcel had gone so far as to thank her for being a helping hand.

That also didn’t stop him from inviting Harry, who thoroughly declined the moment Liam’s name was mentioned.

And either way, Veronica’s fine with that. It’s an office party, after all, and Harry would probably do nothing more than embarrass her.

(Not that Veronica’s ashamed of him; she’d rather not risk him drunk with all his conversations turning into story time. That happened once, and Veronica wasn’t the only one who suffered that aftermath. Eleanor had a grand time verbally kicking his ass after he’d revealed that he’d accidentally walked in on her and Louis having sex.

Which, to be fair, Veronica’s certain they don’t keep it quiet for a reason, but that’s not anything she’s explicitly wished to discuss. Eleanor’s a keeper, a good friend, and a sweetheart, but sharing sex details hasn’t been anything Veronica’s understood. Ever).

Veronica’s already got a couple of beers in her system, and it takes a lot more than that to get her drunk. It’s not often that she does it, but with the meal she had (which probably tasted so much sweeter since she hadn’t had to pay for it), tonight she’ll fall asleep easily and certainly wake up feeling really good in the morning. That and the fact that it’ll be Saturday. That’s part of the weekend _everyone_ looks forward to.

By the time the current song is over, Veronica watches as Liam sits the next song out. Alexa hadn’t shown, but a couple of Liam’s buddies had tagged along with him, and that’s who he’s sitting with tonight. Veronica arrived with Leeroy and Marcel - carpooling, the definite way to go, and while they’d only been a few minutes late, there hadn’t been a moment for either of them to greet Liam.

Not that they _had_ to do that, but now they’re pretty much ordering off of a tab, and Liam deserves to know that everyone here is grateful for his kindness. And sure, part of that reasoning is because Veronica does like him and tends to like making the extra effort so Liam will only give her a smile (they’re brilliant, they are, and Veronica’s a bit lame for having a slight personal agenda, but who wouldn’t in this situation?), but the other is out of pure appreciation.

To distract herself from thinking about any of further, Veronica reaches over and taps Marcel’s hand to get his attention. “Give me a moment. ‘m gonna run out to the car.”

He automatically gives her a disapproving look, and Veronica swears he might actually tisk if it weren’t so loud in here. “You know how I feel about you smoking.”

Well, he _does_ have a point in that statement. Veronica gave it up a long time ago for health reasons, and her lungs thank her for that, but being in places like this, where there’s a bit of food, a bar, and a designated smoking area, it kind of takes her back to those times when she’d sit on the windowsill of her room, open the window as far as it could go and smoke until her brain quit bombarding her with useless thoughts full of people and their hatred. Mostly, it’d been a way to get her to relax and help herself drift away to a silent place where she could view the lights of the town without a headache keeping her from appreciating the finer things.

“Just one, I swear.”

Marcel glances over at Leeroy as if to ask what he thinks about the subject, but he just shrugs and stays quiet, not wanting to have to be a voice of reason. And it looks like Marcel might protest - which is funny because Veronica is old enough to make decisions on her own; sometimes the approval is much needed, though. Besides, like all those times in the past, if she didn’t ask, surely Marcel would smell smoke on her clothes and report back to Harry as if he was her keeper. “Twenty minutes, or I’m going to look for you.”

At that, Marcel ducks his head in order to look over the rim of his glasses. Veronica scrunches up her nose and resists the urge to stick out her tongue in defiance, but she nods in agreement. “I’ll be back.”

Despite it being a Friday evening, the place is hardly packed. There are other people aside from those from the office, but mostly, it’s nice being able to walk out of the building without feeling like there’d been too much going on.

Veronica gets to the car, unlocks it, and finds a pack of smokes waiting for her there. She only takes one, even if the temptation is there to take one more, knowing good and well she’d be through them both before Marcel got a chance to discover what she’d done.

The flick of the lighter burns bright against the darkening sky. The sun is steadily falling, nearing it’s goodbye while the moon takes its place. Veronica brings the end of the fag to her lips, the filter dry, and smoke brushing up against the inside of her body, fighting for a way out. Her lungs feel heavy, throat a little dryer, but the immediate relief is there, and it’s with that realization that Veronica finally breathes out. The smoke curls away from her, lost in the cool air of the growing night, and while she’s leaned up against the building and enjoying the atmosphere, she can still hear the faint sounds of what’s going on just inside.

Words are completely jumbled and muted amongst the sound of music, but it’s comfort. There are cars that drive down the road just yards away from where she’s standing, a busy street the restaurant is located on. The hum of life is nowhere close to being an echo. It’s not distant, and it’s close to opulence like the cigarette between her fingers.

Veronica doesn’t know how long she stays out here, but surely it hasn’t been twenty minutes yet when she hears someone fumble their way through the front door. She’s stood off to the side of the building, has to lean over just a bit to see the front entrance, but she doesn’t and assumes that it’s Marcel because who in their right mind would come out here when the party is inside? “This is the only one I’ve had; I promise. You really didn’t need to come out here and-”

The scuffing of shoes against the ground gains Veronica’s attention, and while she does drop her sentence, it’s only out of mild surprise when she finds that Marcel is, in fact, not the one that followed her out here. (And honestly, it could’ve been another odd stranger who happened to chose the place on the night a bunch of restless office co-workers decided to make themselves at home, but Veronica’s haste to defend herself is more of a testament to the way she grew up with twins as best friends).

Who stands before her now is none other than her boss, and Veronica almost has the nerve to snort because it’s just her good luck to make a fool out of herself. “Sorry,” she says, offering a small smile in return for her otherwise rushed tone. “Thought you were someone else.”

“Habit?” Liam offers instead, gesturing to the cigarette.

And she shrugs in return. “Nah, kicked it a few years back. Relieves a bit of stress every now and again, though.” She lets go of another cloud of smoke, and in the process, she swears she hears a noise come from Liam, one that sounds almost wounded. So, Veronica looks, and what she finds makes her want to take back her words immediately. If Liam were anyone else, he might comment and wonder along the lines of why she was stressed at a _party_ , but he’s not, and Veronica knows all too well when someone’s trying to keep a particular kind of look off their face. “Special occasion,” and she holds up the fag like she’s giving a toast and smiles softly at Liam.

The way Liam’s entire demeanor changes half a second later, leaves Veronica nearly breathless. He joins her, pushes his back against the wall of the building, leaning up against it in his henley and faded blue jeans.

She offers the cigarette to him, just to be polite, and while there seems to be a need hidden within his brown eyes just to take a drag, he doesn’t, declining her offer with a quick shake of his head. “You’re alright?”

What he means by that exactly, Veronica isn’t sure of. In the general sense, she figures she’s doing pretty good. If it’s about tonight, however, “Yeah,” she says. “Tonight’s full of surprises, isn’t it? Didn’t know you could sing.”

Veronica barely nudges Liam’s arm with her elbow, and it does gain his attention, brings it away from the darkening sky and onto her. “It’s kind of a hobby,” he shrugs, and then he barely grimaces before adding, “the singing, not the karaoke.”

And it’s only small talk, nothing serious, but Veronica does feel the pull of laughter deep within her chest. It’s funny, she thinks, that any time she’s with Liam, it’s never truly been awkward. They’ve always been able to settle into the silence, both of their presences co-existing in the same space without any underlying tension that keeps them on edge. Even if the mood is business related, or something like tonight’s, with karaoke and drunken fools, it’s just so _easy_. It’s vaguely similar to the feeling of being around her friends, or with Harry when he comes home late at night smelling like cheap beer and regret.

“I didn’t have time to thank you beforehand, so I guess I should do that now,” Veronica says after only a minute or two. Her voice sounds sturdy, and she’s proud of herself for that. It’s so easy to grow used to being unsure, but minor confidence is always welcome.

“It’s not-”

“Everyone’s going to, you know.” The interruption was only so he wouldn’t argue with her. If there’s one thing she hates, it’s that, bickering. Although, she’s the same way herself, passing off compliments as if they don’t belong to her. Liam, however, is not going to be allowed to do that, not with Veronica here. “They’ll either tell you after they’re all drunk and ready to leave, or they’ll do so when they’re over suffering from a hangover when they show up to work on Monday.”

“Should I expect some slacking off?” Liam asks in mild humor.

Veronica lets the cigarette burn, the red-orange color glowing ever so softly at the tip of the stick. It’s a pretty sight, the fire, not the fag, and Veronica often wonders why people are drawn to them. She is, too, but even then, and when it really comes down to it, she’s got no answer for her own questions.

Smoking a lot like alcohol, or various other things that exist in the world, only there to pass the time since it melts under fingertips like ice. It goes very quickly, and what a world it would be if there weren’t better ways to spend it. “Nah, if anything, it’ll be the best week we’ve had in any quarter.” While Veronica has been there, flicking away the ash off her smoke, some of it still manages to drop. Out of kindness, she keeps it away from Liam, not wanting him to go home smelling deep and rich, something that nearly stings the nostrils because it’s quite distinct. The fag fades quickly, and there will only be a few more inhales before it’s gone; it's probably a good thing Veronica's craving is nonexistent now. It hadn’t been so easy to quit at first, not like it is now. Even though she gives in every once in awhile, the waiting is always worth it.

Liam shifts next to Veronica, pulling away from the building, and for a moment her heart drops down into her stomach because either he’s grown bored and wants to leave, or he sees that she’s nearly done, and he’ll assume she wants to go back inside. And the thing is, Veronica doesn’t want either of those things. As much as she enjoyed the smoke, it’s definitely not what made her night worthwhile. It hadn’t necessarily been Liam either, but whatever they’ve got going on here is nice too (even if Veronica is the only one who feels it).

So, while she’s busy with these thoughts, Veronica misses the struggle that pursues Liam’s own mind, the way his face twists and reveals everything he’s thinking. Liam is an excellent businessman, has a poker face like no other when it comes to the company, but outside of that he’s a little more vulnerable than other men. It’s not a bad thing, really, but it also determines just where Liam’s at with his feelings and how one might use it to their advantage. “Veronica.”

It’s like the snap of fingers with how everything shifts as soon as her name slides off Liam’s tongue. Veronica gives her attention to him, lets the cigarette go and rubs it out with the sole of her shoe. “Yeah?”

Liam swallows; it’s quite visible and easy to picture how his throat might be dry and tacky from nerves. It doesn’t help that he’s not looking at her and isn’t as close to Veronica as he once was. There’s no need for him to give thought to speaking, though; Liam should know by now that Veronica is to be trusted. However, whatever’s got him stalling is a conversation he’s mentally preparing himself for, and Veronica will be the better person and allow him that leeway to find what he needs to say.

Because words aren’t always easy, and they don’t always fall away from the mouth like people want them to. Sometimes it takes a little resolve, some fumbling, and simple space to be able to just spit them out without looking back, without regret. “There’s been some things in my life I’m not proud of,” Liam starts. “And it’s probably really cliche to start off this way.”

The boss gives a quiet kind of laugh, and as soon as he glances over at Veronica, she gives him an encouraging smile. She’s focused on listening, and truly, she has no idea where Liam’s going with this. But if something is in his heart, in his mind, then who is she to turn a blind eye to that?

“You didn’t have to lie about Alexa,” Liam then says, and while the conversation suddenly turns, and Veronica’s left surprised, there is not an accusatory bone in Liam’s body. “I knew she wasn’t _the one_ from the beginning. Guess I just needed some reassurance from someone else.”

It’s probably not her turn to speak, but the point of a conversation is to have it between two people, where they’re equal. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t’ve made that kind of decision for you.”

Liam doesn’t scold her or send her a look for her addition to the discussion. In fact, he nods in agreement. “No, but it might’ve helped me not waste so much time.”

From there, Liam doesn’t elaborate, and Veronica’s still mildly confused that he’d actually speak to her about this. Regardless of him asking about Alexa the other day, or all the other times Veronica’s catered to Liam’s girlfriends, she’s always felt it was a private affair, not her place (or anyone’s, for that matter) to comment on. And maybe that says more about Liam than it does Veronica. It shows she’s got principles, doesn’t it? But it also gives away the fact that Liam is more of an open book than she previously imagined. It’s not so much the fact that it’s black and white when it comes to someone’s business and personal life (although, it is sometimes), but it’s closer to the point of being personable and trusting. Those qualities tend to overlap one another in both work life and home life, and it just so happens that that’s where some of the confusion lies.

At least, that’s what Veronica’s guessing. She can’t act like she knows Liam, or anyone in the office, for that matter. But it makes sense. It does.

“I wanted to apologize, though.” And this is the point where Liam turns to face Veronica, where he actually looks at her so that she knows that he means what he says. “And you may not think that I need to, but you’ve been working for me for this long, and I can’t imagine what you must think of me.”

There isn’t a breeze out here, nor are there any immediate distractions, and while it’s just the two of them, caught up in each others gaze, Veronica wants nothing more than for someone or _something_ to put an end to what Liam’s doing. To her, it’s absurd. She’s not that kind of girl, the one to make stupid ass decisions and proceed to expect differently for someone else. And it happens, of course, from time to time, she’s only human. But Liam’s not allowed to be this vulnerable with her. It’s like an unwritten rule of hers, something she’s finding out while it’s happening because there’s nothing she wants to do more than reassure Liam that everything’s okay, that if this has been eating away at his thoughts, then he’d been silly to think her opinion even mattered.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Liam’s considerate, but not as much as he is with anyone else. Veronica _has_ mattered to him in the past few weeks, even if it was only business related. He’s relied on her for the entire duration of working at Source Lion, the secretary that sees all, knows all. So, in a way, it makes sense why Liam would be seeking her out. With her caught up in some of his personal affairs, maybe he’s reflected upon his past and decided that she’d been a part of that, regardless of how insignificant her role had been in it all.

“I hardly think any of this constitutes an apology, Mr. Payne.” Veronica’s still leaned up against the building, and while the position has grown slightly uncomfortable, she can’t find it in herself to move. The hard wall behind her is there, solid and reliable, and Veronica feels like she needs that now, needs a little bit of a guiding hand at putting Liam’s mind to rest.

Just a bit earlier, Veronica had waved off Liam’s counter-argument over whether or not she was entitled to thank him or not. She’s certain that something similar will occur now, that maybe he’ll insist and continue with this silly pursuit, as if he’d actually done _her_ wrong.

That’s not the case, though. Liam takes a deep breath, furrows his brows all the while shoving his hands into his pockets. Rather than relaxed, or even stressed, Liam’s gone a little further and pressed himself to act official. They’re not in the office, but Veronica would say otherwise if it wasn’t for the way he’s currently dressed. And part of it seems a little odd, and it only gets weirder (her thinking she might retract her feelings on how easy they’ve been able to be near one another despite silence) when he proceeds with, “Do you believe in love?” And the inquiry is effortless the way it rolls off of Liam’s tongue, like it’s a question that’s always asked so casually. “Maybe not like soulmates or anything but…”

The bite that Liam gives his lip is a clear indication that he’s purposely kept himself from going further.

“Liam, like-” And now Veronica’s the one uncertain because she’s pretty sure she’s never actually called her boss by his first name. And even if this does feel like a parallel universe, that doesn’t mean that she has that right. Although, instead of thinking about it too long and letting a potential consequence ensue, Veronica continues by stating that, “There’s nothing wrong with being hopeful, and I’d like to think that the things that don’t work out only lead us through some kind of door,” and her hand moves in gestures, throwing no caution to the wind as she lets herself speak _truthfully_ , “or window that gets us somewhere else we need to be. And one of these days,” Veronica insists, finally pushing herself away from the wall of the building to find her own piece of ground, “it’s the right one.”

Liam snorts and manages to run a thumb across the bottom of his lip, probably a mousy little tick that keeps him from ducking his head and shying away. “Then I’ve been an idiot to think I could search for it.”

Now is definitely the moment that Veronica wishes she could spill at least some of her many secrets. Those would include all the years it took her to get here in her life - not necessarily about her gender or her identity - but about her past failed relationships, the truth that her very best friend is in love with her, or the fact that she kind of, sort of has a bit of a _thing_ for her boss who’s completely straight as a nail and probably in their right mind, wouldn’t even consider someone like Veronica as potential dating material. Of course, it won’t be said allowed, not now because that would be turning the conversation around on her, and that’s not what this is about; all of this entails Liam and his sudden conscious thought about his life. What initially kick started it, that’s a question left unanswered on Veronica’s end, but it’s here, and if there’s one thing that Veronica’s always wanted, well, she just hopes Liam can give that to himself… “Happiness, Liam,” she says with little effort. “We all need a bit of it, and there’s certainly nothing wrong with wanting it.” There’s another little bit she wants to say, but it might be pushing it. So, she doesn’t end up expressing anything more.

In the end, and with the sun now very low in the sky, Liam looks like a different kind of humble. There’s his silhouette, and the fact that his hair isn’t slathered with product, the small amount of hope in his eyes that Veronica will be a comfort, a _friend_. If his ex is just that, an ex, then all of this completely makes sense right now, and Veronica feels a little flattered that she’s the one Liam considered talking to in the first place. It’s also why she decides to wear her heart on her sleeve. “Just know that you deserve it, too, yeah? Not to get sappy now, but you do. I’d like to think everyone does.”

Liam hums, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that. Veronica’s not sure why, or maybe Liam’s just like everyone else, full of flaws and insecurities, and it’s difficult for him to swallow the compassion that other people have towards him. It’s easy to forget that other people have self-doubts, and if that’s the struggle Liam’s having right this very moment, then Veronica can only admit that she’s just a little bit in awe of that fact.

“What about yourself?” Liam asks, effectively drawing the attention away from him.

Veronica laughs, a well-rounded, full bubble of laughter that spills past her lips before she even knows she’s really doing it. Liam doesn’t share her joy, actually looks quite confused at her outburst, but she simply explains it with, “That’s a tough one.”

“It’s not.” And the way he says it isn’t as poised as it ought to be, like Liam himself knows that the things in life people aspire to be like, to want, and to need, are much more uncommon to find. His tone, however, does sound like he’s begging for hope, for a chance that things this time around won’t be so arduous.

But Veronica can’t give that to him, not even if she could because things don’t really work out that way. All the hope she has for herself has been dispersed to different people, assigned to family and friends in her life with nothing left over for herself. The simplest thing Veronica has ever learned is that it’s always best to be hopeful for other people in case that hope is not spared for oneself. Encouragement and belief help people prevail, and unfortunately, it doesn’t necessarily work the same when it’s not focused on those that matter most. “If you only knew,” she mutters. And whether she intends for her words to be loud enough, it doesn’t matter because out here, everything is a given. Everything travels so easily with the quiet background noise, aiding in intensifying the sharpness of someone’s voice.

Liam hears her very loud and clear, and while Veronica has probably made things awkward now, put herself into a position of possibly explaining away her life as if that might change Liam’s mind, that she deserves just the same amount of happiness she wishes for him, it doesn’t matter because she’ll avoid it. She’ll find a way to brush this off because she’s good at that, brilliant at masking her feelings and shoving them away where she can’t even find them herself unless she’s pushed to an unknown limit.

“Veronica?” Liam calls softly. He looks like he’s about to take a step forward, just to get a little closer to see if she’s okay, but Liam stops himself before he actually does it.

Especially when Veronica says, “Sorry.” Fortunately for her, she’d opted out of wearing too much makeup, which included less lipstick and more chapstick. So, when she goes to lick her lips, she knows she’s not rubbing away significant product, and even if it’s a bit flavorless, it’s one less thing to worry about screwing up. “Just caught me off guard is all.” Which, it’s the only true explanation she can give, not a very good one, but one nonetheless.

She looks away, Veronica does, out to the cars that rumble across the pavement in an effort to get to their destinations. And it’s a convenient thing to let her mind wander, even if it’s brief. It gives her the few seconds she needs to find another topic of conversation, something to pull them out of this stale, unfortunate lonely hearts club they’ve managed to find themselves in.

But as much as Veronica silently searches - with the hope that Liam might be doing the same - she’s let down by the fact that no, that’s definitely not the case. Instead, Liam’s gaze is still on her, and while she can’t see him because she’s turned her attention away from him, Veronica can definitely hear him move closer. The shift in the air that lets her know another warm body is in her vicinity is quite clear, and it’s difficult to miss because while the air is not remotely cool out so there isn’t a change to the warmth, it’s that feeling of a new presence by her side that’s much less reassuring.

Liam moves right into her space, close enough to gently reach out and touch her arm before he adds, “And what if I…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence; Liam trails off, but it’s perfectly understandable. What would’ve been expressed starts with the simple fact that his question earlier hadn’t been anything close to catching Veronica off guard, not in the slightest, not with what comes next. It’s replaced by Liam drawing Veronica’s complete attention when he brushes his thumb against her jaw, next to her ear. She’s startled by the touch, manages to shiver at the feeling of warm skin pressed against hers (even if it is only a thumb).

But he doesn’t stop there. Liam follows the natural curve of the bone, thumb lightly stroking the skin until he ends up near her chin. From there, he curls his fingers ever so softly around the frame of her face, pulling Veronica’s gaze back to his.

Her teeth find her lip; it’s like a habit, and she can’t actually bring her eyes upwards. Rather, Veronica finds herself staring at the curve of Liam’s shoulder, where the collar of his shirt sits, and the birthmark she’d like to run her fingers over.

When Liam clears his throat, that’s when she finally brings her eyes to his. By now, Liam’s dropped his hand as it’s no longer near her face. That doesn’t mean he’s moved completely away, though. Liam’s standing right in front of her, and he could be a little lost what with the way his eyes are a little shiny, lips a little wet since his tongue darts out to lick them every so often. But Veronica can take a wild guess and say that that’s probably not the case. Her heart beats a little faster, and she’s breathing in the same air as her _boss_. That fact alone should be enough for her to step away from this situation because honestly, it shouldn’t be any kind of right to be standing like this with Liam.

So, Veronica takes another deep breath through her nose, parts her mouth just slightly, and expects herself to actually speak. But what she finds is the fact that she can’t do it, not when Liam’s eyelashes fan across the very tops of his cheeks, the way his mouth is a nice light shade of pink, cheeks just beginning to flush-

And leaning in closer to Veronica than she ever could’ve imagined.

Thing is, she has. Veronica’s just a dumb fool thinking that Liam would give her the time of day, ever. It doesn’t matter what she thinks is right because relationships must be _mutual_ , and she’s always respected his decision on the matter (even though the potential of a _them_ probably hadn’t even crossed his mind before). But as Liam leans in further, and Veronica counts down the moment to what she thinks is going to be a kiss, she can’t help but wonder if she should find a quick rush of adrenaline and put some distance between them, to stop this from happening. It’s not that this is anything she hasn’t wanted, but it’s a matter of reality and fantasy here, and the fact remains that Liam is Liam, and Veronica is Veronica, and it’s quite impossible to picture her boss finding a place by her side in relation to any kind of relationship.

After all, any kind of _good_ relationship requires three simple things: trust, equality, and understanding. And so far, that’s a miss on all three.

Veronica never does come to a quick decision, though, not when Liam finally presses his lips against hers. It’s like her entire brain malfunctions, and the only thing on her mind is the fact that it’s _Liam_ , and _lips_ , and _soft_. He doesn’t push her either. Liam waits until Veronica finds it within herself to piece together what’s really happening in order to make a move.

And she does just seconds later. A rush of _want_ surges through Veronica’s veins, and the next thing she knows, she’s joining Liam in his quest for a taste. There are all kinds of warnings and red flags in the back of her mind, but as of right now, it’s all ignored. Liam’s pressed against her now, warm and solid, a hand wrapping around her waist as if it’s possible to get any closer to one another.

Veronica soon feels Liam’s other hand against her neck, brushing against her hair, and her ear, and it’s difficult to lean into that touch, but it feels nice. It feels absolutely perfect to be able to feel Liam’s broad chest under her own fingers, how she lets them curl into his shirt just to keep her grounded.

She doesn’t know how long this lasts, but it’s not long enough when Liam’s the first to pull away. Their breathing is a little bit heavier, and they’re still crowded against one another with Liam eventually resting their foreheads together.

And this should be the perfect time for Veronica to evaluate the situation, but she’s too caught up with the rush of blood to her head, the way it cancels out any other noise around her. All she can see and focus on is _Liam_ and the way he’s staring at her with so much emotion she doesn’t know how to interpret.

They don’t speak. It seems that neither of them really know what to say, and that’s as much of a good thing as it is bad because the longer they stand here, with Liam’s arms around her waist, and Veronica searching Liam’s eyes for _any_ kind of sign so she’s got some kind of clue what this means, all of her fears finally prick the surface, come careening back to the forefront of her thoughts until she feels like she can’t get any air back into her lungs.

Of course, all of this is in her head, the anxiety. The way her heart seizes up, how her throat constricts, and the building of tears at the corner of her eyes, it make every kind of sense in the world. Liam doesn’t notice that inner turmoil; he doesn’t and never will experience the kind of earth-shattering, soul-breaking heartache that ripples down Veronica’s spine and through her very viens, cracking her emotions and her heart right in two.

The thing is, Liam even leans in for another kiss.

It does nothing to heal Veronica’s despair.

This time it’s much softer, so gentle as if he’s taking caution with her feelings. He’s letting her know she can back out at any time, that even if this was his decision, Veronica’s fully capable of deciding, too. So, Veronica kisses him one last time, and she does it with such conviction that she hopes Liam will always remember it because what will come next is not what she wants to do. Sure, Liam could be confused, use her as some kind of rebound, but ultimately, she’s going to have to let him down regardless of his intentions because Veronica’s got a secret, and while the most important people in her life know, that doesn’t mean everyone else is privy to it. Especially Liam, and if he were ever in the running for her to potentially date him, well, all those past boyfriends and men in her life, their words have chosen the most opportune moment to invade Veronica’s head.

The cruel comments and nasty sneers, the misunderstandings, along with abnormal fixations, it’s all right there, and Veronica will be damned if Liam becomes apart of her past like that. To be grouped with such inconsiderate bastards, that’s something Veronica is dead set on keeping Liam away from.

(Because even if he _is_ like them, ignorance is bliss, isn’t it?)

Veronica is the first one to pull away this time, mostly because her lungs began to bristle without any oxygen. Liam doesn’t look dismayed at that, rather he licks his lips and gives her the one thing that’d been on his mind. “Wanted to do that for awhile now.” The breathy laugh he then gives shows his relief from taking a chance. As much as Veronica has been anxious in the past, it’s a wonder to think of all of the uncertainty Liam had before he made up his mind about brushing his lips against Veronica’s.

Veronica, on the other hand, knows that part of her shouldn’t be thrilled at that revelation. It’s a hellish feeling having to stomp down that excitement because that fact remains that Veronica’s been in these types of situations before, and it’s only lead previous partners to believe she’s lied to them. And maybe in a way, she has, but introducing oneself by letting the other party know that their gender doesn’t necessarily fit in with society’s, isn’t exactly a great opener.

Nor is the fact that what’s hidden _underneath_ doesn’t necessarily add up either.

There also wouldn’t be so much cause for concern if Veronica, in general, wasn’t so taboo. Of course, she knows there are plenty of people out there like her, but living in her world is very much different than those who don’t have to deal with any gender and or sexuality crisis’. The world, at first, had seemed to tilt onto its side when Veronica had been younger and struggled with social norms, but those around her - including her friends - they didn’t have that, too worried about not getting caught drinking, or finding the best party to go to on the weekend.

And to be honest, there’s nothing Veronica can really say here. The words don’t immediately come to her, and while Liam seems perfectly content, it just proves how much Veronica conceals everything she’s currently going through.

When she steps away from Liam, Veronica regains his attention, and when he reaches out for her, she steps away from his embrace because now is the moment of truth. There is no other way around it. White-noise fills her ears until Liam is calling out to her, snapping her out of putting off the let down.

“I can’t do this,” she says abruptly. She meant to come off as nicer, not so harsh and cruel with her tongue. Liam’s a strong man in every sense of the word; there’s no doubt about that. But regardless, feelings are fragile little creatures, and if Veronica hurts, it’s safe to say that it’s possible for Liam to hurt, too. Hell, he’d spent his first moments out here letting Veronica know just that.

She's going to hate herself for being the one to make him crumble a little further.

Liam pulls himself together, though, squares his shoulders while furrowing his brow. It might be quite comical in any other setting, the pout that graces his lips, and the humming of so many questions on the tip of his tongue. “Is this…” And he’s got to clear his throat, make sure it’s as smooth as it’s going to get in a situation like this. “Is it because I’m your boss?” he asks.

It’s a perfectly legitimate question, but Veronica shakes her head and says, “It’s a lot more complicated than that.”

Liam nods; although, it's a sure thing that he doesn't really understand. Veronica is thankful that he doesn't force the subject, and instead says, "I'm not going to push you. Probably should't've done that anyway. I'm sorry for the trouble."

Veronica is the one who feels guilty now. Obviously, she's the one who made the choice to back away, and there's no reason for her to feel the way she does, but it's for a very different reason. Liam's not gonna get it unless she's honest, and even then, Veronica's not going to go out of her way unless Liam asks. She's not a liar, and although there's still the perfect opportunity for her true reason behind her wanting to keep her distance from Liam to be revealed, there's a much less window of opportunity available now.

To skirt by it would be a blessing, but Veronica's got a feeling she's not going to be that lucky tonight. "It's not that I don't want to," Veronica states next. She tries to swallow that thickness in her throat without much luck. "You've no idea." And the sad kind of laughter that echoes out from her chest makes a certain kind of look pass across Liam's face; he doesn't interrupt her, though, just waits until she starts speaking again. "Some things are just complicated," she shrugs, "and everyone would probably tell me I'm just making it that way right now, but it's _not_ easy." Running her fingers through her hair, Veronica tugs at the roots, a sign of stress and worry. "You're a good man, Liam, but I’m trying to save myself here. I know how this ends.” If her voice trembles and sounds misplaced, she doesn’t really notice, not when she’s trying to let Liam down easy, and in a way, herself too. “Besides, it wouldn’t be very pretty.”

From here, she doesn’t know what else to say. Veronica’s set on leaving things as they are, and when she looks back to the front of the building, towards the doors to the restaurant, she wonders if this is really how it’s going to end. The initiation of no was on her part, and while there’s the burden of regret already settling down into the pit of her stomach, what’s done is done. The matter of being able to pretend like it’s all okay - at least for the rest of the night; Veronica doesn’t want to think about how things might be come Monday morning - is a relative problem she’s going to have to face. Walking away from Liam sets so many boundaries; she’s just spent her past few weeks revolved around a working relationship (and a partial friendship, she’d like to believe), and to have that crumble under the weight of revelations such as feelings, well, then it’s going to have to run its course until it isn’t a problem anymore.

Or, Veronica could resign and find a new job. But, she thinks, that’s a bit dramatic; at least, it is as of this moment. Only time will tell if she needs to play that card.

Just as she’s about to let it all be, walk away before more can be said with the very intention of picking up the pieces the following week at work, when Liam draws her attention away from that and onto him. There’s no easy way to say that he looks utterly lost and bemused. Surely he’s piecing together Veronica’s words without actually making a connection, and if the next words out of his mouth ask her anything relatively close to what’s going on, then she knows there’s no way she’s not going to be able to tell him.

Mostly because she wants to, and also because Veronica thinks it’s high time that she stop being so shy towards someone who she’s supposed to trust. Liam may lose all respect for her outside of the office, but whether he will do so in the midst of her work, might be determined otherwise. Of course, there’s always the option of staying silent; Veronica has always had that power in her hands, but something tells her that Liam likes honesty, has even see it with her own eyes.

“Is there something I should know about?” Liam asks, and he does it with prudence. “If it’s simply because you don’t want to, that’s understandable. But I feel-”

Veronica’s already shaking her head in agreement, only to reply with “-like I’m keeping something from you, yeah.” The opportunity to leave is closing quickly, and while some say it might’ve already passed, Veronica knows from experience that there are ways to manipulate a situation, to guide it wherever necessary. Liam probably knows how to do that, too, and while he’s no intention of swaying the discussion in his favor, Veronica recognizes the fact that he’s going so far to see that she’s okay. Her resolve will no longer be questioned; Liam would rather be in the know so that this situation will be at peace, maybe his way of moving past it as well.

She purses her lips and wonders how much she can give away tonight. The sun is so low in the sky by now that the lights from the street lamps and the restaurant are the only things keeping the parking lot lit. The hues of pink and orange, the clouds that are rolling away, seem like an afterthought now. They’re not as beautiful as they were before, rather dull to Veronica’s eye, and that’s more so because of what the truth does to individuals. It drains them dry regardless of the fact that a healthy dose is meant to soothe the soul.

Veronica has the potential to expose herself in any light imaginable, give her side of the story and create herself a perspective that is rich and fresh, away from the judgment that lingers at the tips of ignorant people’s hands. Liam will be able to draw his own conclusions, rely on his heart of hearts to make a discernment. The influences that will affect him will come from him alone, the past being the only thing to shape his current way of thinking.

And never in her life did Veronica think that this would be the way she’d tell someone she enjoyed the company of. Even then, she never dreamed of telling Liam, her boss. Tonight was only meant to be a night of elation, not the admission of something much more personal to Veronica. Although, what other way is she to do this? She’s thought about potential dates in the future, and while the past has been a learning experience for relationships, it’s also given her a guide on how to handle the discussion of her gender. It’s no easy pill to swallow, but what else is she to do?

Certainly the smart thing wouldn’t be to lure a partner to bed, surprise them with different body parts that they didn’t know they were getting into. Veronica had been accused of that before, and so she figured that her gender would always need to be something discussed beforehand. It’d eliminate the playing field way faster than she would ever care to admit, but at least it’d show who’d be there for her verses who wouldn’t be.

“I’d hoped to have never gotten to this point with you. Figured there wouldn’t ever be a need for me to bring it up, actually.” Veronica scratches her nose, but she quickly stops when she realizes she’s rubbing off so much of her foundation. It’ll be gathered under her fingernails until she can find a sink to wash her hands with. “To know there’s a chance you’d look at me any differently is something I’ve been wanting to avoid.” The smile she gives does not reach her eyes, and Veronica doesn’t even have to look at Liam to know that he can tell, too.

“Veronica,” Liam says. His tone is deep, almost hard, but it’s not because he’s mad. It’s like he’s trying to keep the anguish out of his voice; yet, he’s not doing a very good job of it. Liam simply shifts on his feet, taking a step closer to her like that’ll give her some kind of support to go on. And it’s not that she needs it necessarily, but the offer is kind. “What do you think is so bad that I’m going to be any different with you than I was before?”

And with that question, it’s not a matter of the status of their relationship; it’s only the simple fact that there could be a potential changing of Liam’s character towards Veronica’s. Liam’s concerned that he’d fall short and disappoint her, and while that seems selfish to want to keep his integrity, that’s not the case either. To know that Veronica’s got something about herself that might have her boss rethink any of his feelings towards her (romantic or otherwise), seems like an absurd notion. There is no pride in Liam’s kindness; he does it because it’s all he knows how to do and be, but the doubt Veronica has in him, that’s where Liam swallows his nerves and asks for the simple truth.

Veronica curls the corner of her mouth into a small smile. This time it’s a little more genuine as she looks up at Liam through her glasses. After that, she’s thoroughly glad she wore her hair down tonight. It frames her face and brings about comfort in the smallest of ways.

While Veronica gives herself a moment or two of silence, she presses her lips together before opening her mouth to speak. It’s all or nothing; there’s no going back. “I’m transgender, Liam.” The words do not flow out of her mouth as quickly as she had expected them to. They taste heavy on her tongue, full and rich, like that expression belongs there. It settles into her bones so easily, a common word that many do not actually understand. All Veronica knows is that it feels right, and that’s what matters most, doesn’t it? “Well, a subset of that, at least.”

Someone with less resolve than Veronica might look away at such an affirmation, too distressed to see the other party’s face when it comes to such delicate matters. But Veronica wants to pride herself, even if only a little, on her ability to keep her gaze on Liam’s. His expression doesn’t change rapidly, not like she expects it to, and while there’s hope bubbling under the raging current, the sound of blood rushing through her ears, that doesn’t mean all is well.

Liam remains neutral for as long as possible, and it’s not like there’s anything else there to read in his eyes. But what he does do is trail gaze over Veronica, a little bit of scrutiny there like he’ll find something off about her. It’s not an insult; Veronica knows it's not, and gone are the days where she felt offense like that. The things that get to her most are when people purposefully and continuously get under her skin. A comment here and there doesn’t have as much impact as the amount of pressure that someone might receive on a constant basis.

“Is it like,” and he hums softly, caution found in the brown of his irises. He’s easy to read right now, and for that, Veronica’s grateful.

“You can ask me whatever you want,” she offers. It’s the least she can do, and Veronica doesn’t have to, not in the slightest. But she’s willing. See, the thing is, if Liam’s lost but inquisitive about the things he _doesn’t_ understand, then he should find no penalty from not knowing. For everyone learns at some point in time, and that’s what education is for. Yet, when the questions stem from a place of malice and ill intent, then accountability should be held. Veronica has never had a problem with explaining her situation, not to those who actually care.

Whatever side Liam lies on, has yet to be determined.

Liam raises his eyebrow in a silent question, like he might take her up on that offer, only for Veronica to retract it and slap him on the wrist for going too far. She gives him a nod, though, for reassurances sake.

“Isn’t that where someone doesn’t, you know,” Liam looks away, probably one of the only times Veronica’s ever seen him this unsure of himself, like he’s trying to say what he’s thinking without doing it harshly and hurting her feelings. If she were brave enough now, Veronica wouldn’t hesitate to extend her hand in comfort. “Like, they don’t really feel right in um, they’re body?”

If an A could’ve been given for effort, Veronica would’ve definitely given him that (and maybe a gold star along with it). She smiles wide, and while it’s not a very funny subject, she appreciates that he’s _trying_. “Something like that, yeah,” she replies. “Not quite.”

“Okay,” and instead of arguing about being wrong, Liam says that so simply, like he accepts the fact that for once in his life, he isn’t the smartest person in the room. The thing is, that’s okay; Veronica’s only got so much wit about herself, too. Still, the fact remains that Liam’s making an effort. “Why were- _are_ you so afraid of _my_ reaction, though?”

Veronica brushes her hand through her hair again and thinks very carefully on how to answer that. It’s not that she’s admitted her feelings; she’d been lucky enough to steer clear of actually admitting _that_ to Liam tonight. However, his question leads to that kind of answer from her, and Veronica’s not sure she’s willing to go that far. One might think the prospect of revealing their gender identity might be a little more overwhelming than actual feelings. Both give Veronica a level of vulnerability she’d rather stay away from, but this seems worse. If she gives Liam this too, then what is left of her that he doesn’t already have? A double-edge sword is a lot more powerful, even if it is in the form of words.

“You’re my boss,” she says as simply as can be. “And it’s one thing to _look_ like a woman and to actually be one.”  Hammer meets nail at that exact moment, along with the blink of surprise from Liam not escaping Veronica’s vision. He doesn’t recoil, but that scrutiny is back, like Liam’s trying to picture exactly what she meant by that statement. “Even then,” she mutters, “it’s not like I’ve been doing a very good job of it either.”

It’s not like she would’ve elaborated on that last sentence anyway, but she’s interrupted before the possibility can even present itself. Her name is called from a distance, and when both Liam and Veronica turn towards the front of the building, Marcel is standing there with a hand on his hip, looking at her expectantly. It takes him a minute or so before he eventually notices Liam, his eyebrows shooting up over his glasses, and while it looks as if he’s about to make a remark, Veronica shakes her head rapidly (the fact that Liam can’t see because he’s in front of her looking behind himself, makes it all the better) and gestures for him to give her a minute. She probably looks a little spastic, but this is the perfect moment for Veronica to make her escape.

And maybe that’s the cowards way out of not finishing the conversation that has been cut like so, but what it does do (for Veronica especially) is give her some breathing room. Liam will get that, too. It’ll give them _both_ some distance, for Veronica to wonder if she made the right choices, and for Liam to draw conclusions of his own. It’d probably be better if Veronica held his hand on the subject she disclosed, but she’d been so convinced that by admitting all of this to Liam, it would surely drive him away. While he still hasn’t expressed any interest in throwing little caution to the wind when it comes to _them_ , he’s probably still digesting Veronica’s news.

Or maybe Veronica’s really dead set on not getting her hopes up because that’s happened before, and it never, ever ended well. Saving herself from hurting again is a defensive kind of strategy; it hurts (way less, might she add), but so far, it’s been mildly effective.

“Look,” she says candidly. “Don’t worry yourself about it, yeah? Probably best if you forget I said anything.” She smiles, or at least tries to so that will help her case. Mostly, Veronica just wants to leave now, her breath beginning to leave her body at an increasing pace. Whether it’s going to lead to a panic attack or not, Veronica would rather find out anywhere else but here. “I’m sorry, Liam.”

To make matters worse (or at least that’s what Veronica thinks _after_ she does it and looks back on her idiot self later that night), Veronica steps closer to Liam, and as quick as can be, presses her lips against the corner of his mouth. As soon as she’s backed off, Liam looks like he wants to say something, but Veronica plays Cinderella and leaves Liam with his words while she makes her way to Marcel and back inside the building. Everything is a blur at that point, the shift in air, the fact that she’s no longer outside with Liam as her only company. Part of her misses it already, that comfortable impression Liam always leaves on her.

Marcel’s hand is pressed closely against Veronica’s back, a steady weight, so very solid like the concrete of the building outside she’d leaned up against. She takes a deep breath to steady her mind while Marcel leads her back to her seat.

Leeroy gives them a curious look, but Veronica’s easily able to slip a grin back onto her face, smiles even wider when Marcel orders them a couple of shots and takes note that he shouldn’t ask any questions right now.

They’ll come later, they will. Marcel will get the story, and Harry will probably be right there beside him, tucked into her side while she spills the conversation she had with her boss to both of her friends. And if El joins in, along with Louis too, they’ll all let her wallow in self-doubt and fear of her mistakes.

But for right now, the shot glass is being placed right in front of her, and all she sees is the muddy liquid; all she hears is the count of _one, two, three_ before the glass is in her hand, the alcohol burning as it slides down her throat.

And maybe, if she’s very lucky, Veronica will drink enough to forget tonight ever happened. That’d be some kind of miracle.

Although, that doesn’t sound too bad actually.

+

It’s like a dance or something that they’re doing.

Well, maybe Veronica’s doing it, but that’s mostly because she has nothing to say to Liam. Their paths haven’t needed to cross; she’s just been taking care of business. Liam’s doing his own thing, and life goes on.

For the most part.

By that, it means that things go back to normal, or what Veronica would consider normal. It’s not like she can erase everything off of her mind, the time she spent feeling a little more important, but it also shouldn’t be this hard to transition back to her desk job. The one she was hired for a few years ago.

Nothing upsets her performance in that area. It’s just weird getting used to sitting behind a desk all day, running a few errands here and there if anyone needs something. Liam no longer calls on her, and to be completely honest, they don’t even cross ways. Which, that’s perfectly okay. That’s how it’d been before, Veronica only seeing the inside of Liam’s office once in a blue moon if he ever needed her to print off something for him. Most of their earlier encounters consisted of phone calls or quick emails.

Either way, she’s not hung up about it. Promise. Cross her heart, hope to die.

Except, maybe, kinda, sorta, she still is, just not in the way that one would think. See, Veronica kept her feelings in a little, dark pocket hidden deep within her mind, where they don’t even see the light of day, where she doesn’t sit a little straighter when Liam walks to and from his office to the elevators.

No, she certainly isn’t that kind of person.

Yet, the incessant coming and going of women is very troubling, and Veronica’s not nosy, but she does eye each of them with wariness because regardless of nonexistent jealous feelings, to have that many show their face, only to never be seen again, makes Veronica worry. Liam’s life is his own, but a man who’d been willing to express his feelings to little ole’ her doesn’t mean he turns into a womanizer overnight. Nope, that’s not how that works.

Too bad she’s not going to confront him about it. Ever. His business will remain just that, and Veronica’s going to focus on her paycheck-

And Marcel, who’s sitting at her desk when she walks through the elevator doors. She’s late for work, and there’s an apology on her tongue for that. However, since there’s no one to give it to, Veronica lets it die in her throat, takes in the way Marcel looks anything other than happy.

“Someone spoil your morning?” she asks when she sets down her purse on top of the desk. She hasn’t walked around it because her friend’s in her seat, so she opts for leaning over to flick his glasses since he’s not responding. “Hello there.”

Marcel hadn’t been frowning before, but he sure is now, doesn’t even tell Veronica off for screwing with him. Rather, Marcel fixes his glasses, makes sure they're clean and sitting correctly on his face before he stands up and shoves his hands into his pockets.

Now, Veronica could further tease him, make fun of his tucked in white checkered shirt, or the fact that he’s wearing brown tweed pants to go along with it. His tie is of a red color, surely one he’d know the name of and only Niall would truly care to hear enough about. Marcel’s hair is combed back perfectly, out of his face where it makes his outline a little squarer. “Veronica.”

And she rolls her eyes because she’s been in these situations before, twice, if anyone’s counting. Surely Marcel’s not going to make her go bother Liam because of some minuscule task he could do himself.

With that in mind, she’s about to tell him off for it until someone interrupts her by shuffling into the lobby. They’re carrying a box in their hands, the telltale signs of having been fired.

Veronica doesn’t know who the man is. He’s definitely someone who works in the office, and she’s familiar with his face, could probably place his name if she had more than a minute to spare.

But that’s the thing. Something must be going on if her suspicions are right, and Marcel wouldn’t be here staring at her with concern if that wasn’t the case. “Oh my god,” she says. “I’m fired, aren’t I?” And it’s not as like, sad or something as she thinks it ought to be. There’s no comfort in her voice from that fact, but she’s not as scared of it either. She’s got a busy resume, likes to believe there’s a decent personality to go with it, so finding another job isn’t going to be too much trouble-

“No,” Marcel says, his tone effective in cutting those blatant thoughts in two.

“Okay,” she says resolutely, stands in front of her desk and wonders if she should go ahead and ask what’s going on, or if she should just stand here all day instead.

Yet, as she’s about to make her feelings known, another someone comes into view, carrying a box - smaller this time, probably filled with less things - all the while heading straight towards the elevator. Both Veronica and Marcel look on, and while neither of them make a comment, the brazen way the man stares at Veronica is nothing to joke about.

She recognizes him easily enough. He’d been the one in the break room, preceded to verbally tell her his distaste in how she chose to live her life.

And that really, truly peaks Veronica’s interest because as far as she knows, there’d been no announcement, no forewarnings of a company-wide firing, and if there were, Veronica would’ve known about it by now.

She doesn’t even have to turn back to Marcel to know that he’s looking at her. Those beady little eyes stare at her from behind his glasses, and for a moment she wishes she could shove him away and out of her sight because whatever he’s got to say, and whatever has him looking so grim, is surely going to do the same to Veronica’s mood.

And look, going to work is not always fun, but at least Veronica gets some alone time, has her computer to keep her entertained. She’s beaten solitaire so many times she’s lost count. Things are good, if not better, than they have been in a while, and now more shit is being stirred up. All she wants to do now is ask whose fault it is this time.

That particular question is not answered until much, much later when Veronica becomes well aware of the fact that it’s her fault. But in the meantime, Marcel doesn’t get a chance to explain anything because Liam’s voice echoes from down the hall, loud and quite cold.

It’s unexpected, is what it is, and Veronica blinks back her surprise from how deep his tone is. She’s positive she’s never heard him sound like that, ever, in all the days she’s worked for this company.

Which should tell her something, have her listening in to what Liam’s saying, but then Marcel’s talking over him, distracting Veronica from her curiosity with, “You should know-”

But it’s not like he gets to finish because he’s not very persistent for one, and two, Liam’s voice is a little louder, sharper than what they're all used to. Without giving Marcel any more of her time, Veronica rounds the wall that separates her desk from the cubicles. That’s where the voice is coming from.

She stands there for a moment, not willing to go any further in case any attention is drawn to her. Veronica’s using half the wall to shield her body while the other half is partially exposed. It’s the perfect vantage point to slip out of sight if she needs to.

Not that she’s in any real danger here, but something _is_ going on.

Mostly it’s just the same old shit, though. Everyone’s situated at their desks; no one looks any different save for the one man standing on the other side of the room wearing an expensive ass suit and looking none too pleased. There’s a perfectly shaped frown on his face, and Veronica’s curious as to why Liam’s in here lookin’ like a reaper about to take someone to the light.

“-won’t be tolerated. Not here, not at this company,” Liam’s saying.

Veronica doesn’t know the context, but she does feel Marcel by her side soon enough. She briefly turns to him, willing to give him a chance to speak now that Liam’s trying to stare anyone down who has the gall to even glance his way.

“If anyone else has anything to say about it, I’d like to direct you to the door. This behavior,” and Liam gives them this catty little laugh, like he’s asking them all _really? This is how it’s going to be then?_ “is unacceptable, and hopefully by now you all know it’s inexcusable.”

“As far as I know, four people were laid off,” Marcel’s voice seeps into her ear. “Well, probably shouldn’t say it like that. _Fired_ is more like it.”

Veronica doesn’t look at him, but she does nod so that he knows she’s listening. “Why in the world is that happening? Usually I know about this stuff before it’s even out.” Her lips thin, looking rather wistful about the grounds for which Liam feels is necessary to take away people’s jobs. He’s principled, and there’s no way someone like him would’ve made a snap decision like this if there wasn’t cause for concern.

And Marcel lets out a sigh, urges her away from the partition, back around to her desk.

She follows, doesn’t strain herself in trying to stay because whether or not Liam’s going to continue is not going to matter much if she doesn’t at least hear what the fuss is all about.

“I’m going to assume you didn’t mention anything else when you told him.” An explanation to that is not necessary. They’ve all gotten pretty used to talking about her like that without actually using certain terms in public. Mostly because it’s easier to keep things between a collective group of people than be obnoxious in public and have people stare because they’ve just learned that the person they’re passing on the street is a little bit different then they are.

Instead of getting defensive, Veronica shakes her head because no, she hadn’t told Liam anything other than the fact that it wasn’t best if they made out in public - or anywhere, for that matter - because she’s transgender and that’s a whole different kind of mess Liam wouldn’t want to sign up for. Other than that, there hadn’t been anything else to talk about. Her admittance had been pretty substantial, and it’s not like Liam’s out there talking about their conversation right at this moment.

But if Veronica wasn’t suspicious before (she was, mildly), she most certainly is now because Marcel is doing this thing where he’s looking at Veronica without looking away. It’s hard to tell if he’s even blinking, his glasses making his eyes look a little bigger behind the frames, and Veronica feels the sudden need to shake him just to spit out whatever the fuck he feels like he needs to say. “Liam went to HR about it first,” Marcel starts, and Veronica knows that he’s getting antsy because he goes on to rub the back of his neck. “So, this is coming directly from Leeroy, and I hate to go about this with hearsay, but Liam started asking some questions.”

She’s following along; of course she is, but so far, there haven’t been any hints for her to take to draw her own conclusions. Which is for the best, really. It’s so easy to come up with some worst case scenario, and with her overly suspicious mind, it wouldn’t take Veronica long to piece together some kind of absurd explanation.

“Okay,” Veronica drawls. “Go on.”

“I don’t know all of what Leeroy told him, though.” Resolute is probably not the best word to describe Marcel, but he does look steady and quite appropriate for someone who just wants to lay down the facts. “Apparently, Liam put two and two together-”

To show her impatience, Veronica snaps her fingers once and proceeds with, “Out with it.”

“He knows something’s up. With you, Veronica. The harassment.”

Now, that’s a very interesting piece of information given that the only people who know about that here in the office is Leeroy and the man standing before her right now. Marcel has a history of leaking information, mainly at his friend’s expense because he’s worried for their well being more than anything else. However, while that interest he has is more out of the goodness of his heart, it still acts as proof for his lack of confidentiality.

Leeroy, on the other hand, Veronica’s not had any problems with. But if he’d been under Liam’s pressure, then it’s easy to see why he would’ve cracked and mentioned anything at all.

Still, though, that leads to the question of how Liam found out anything in the first place because if he went to Leeroy with his assumptions, then that meant Leeroy hadn’t been the one to say anything to Liam from the start. It also left Marcel as the only suspect, but the way he’s regarding Liam right now, and the fact that he found this out from Leeroy, suggests that he hadn’t said anything either.

So, Marcel asking her earlier whether she told Liam anything else makes sense because if Leeroy didn’t do it, if Marcel didn’t do it, and if Veronica didn’t do it, then who the fuck gave Liam any kind of idea that Veronica was being harassed at work?

Really, Veronica would pinch the bridge of her nose if she could, but she’s using her glasses today, and at this point, she’s too lazy to adjust them after accommodating her fingers in that space.

“You don’t seem to happy about this.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “That people were fired because of me? Sure,” she shrugs. “That’s great, airing out dirty laundry is just fine.”

“You know that’s-”

The narrowing of her eyes is probably what stops Marcel from defending Liam. For him, he probably sees this as a good thing because that means there’s not an underlying knowledge of people being rude to one of his friends.

Which is great, in some regard. Veronica’s not going to have to sit here and deal with idiots who act like they're five, calling her names and glaring at her because she’s simply different.

No, see, the thing she’s upset with is the fact that Liam deliberately went behind her back to do this. Whether it was a favor or some kind of peace offering, that’s yet to be determined, but Veronica doesn’t need _saving_. It’s part of the reason she’d gotten mad before when everyone suggested she take this to HR for a formal complaint.

And sue her for being a little scared about handling it. It’s always easier to push a problem to the side and deal with it when it can no longer be neglected. _This_ situation was just fine as it was, and now Liam’s gone and burst that bubble.

“Look,” Marcel sighs. “I know that isn’t the only reason; it’s only part of it. You hadn’t told me about anything else happening to you so I figured stuff had calmed down, people had moved on to better gossip but…” And as Marcel trails off, his gaze redirects itself away from Veronica and over to her desk.

At first, Veronica thinks he’s just looking away from her, but as Marcel continues to pointedly look at it, she’s forced to follow his gaze.

From this position, she’s at a different point of view when it comes to looking at her desk. She’d been hovering over it when Marcel was in her chair just moments before, but now she notices that her keyboard is pushed up and the belongings surrounded her desk form a bit of a circle around the middle of the furniture.

Needless to say, it’s odd, and Veronica doesn’t like it when her things are moved around, and she wonders why it’s like that. There’s probably a question to be asked here, but Veronica doesn’t voice it because she finds the distaste written all over Marcel’s features.

So, there’s more to the story.

Veronica doesn’t waste her time. She head straight to her desk, and Marcel does not stop her. However, his voice is there right behind her, and she knows he’s following. “It was only found this morning,” Marcel explains as they approach the desk. “Leeroy said Liam’s been asking about this for a couple of days now so this couldn’t’ve been the sole reason for today.”

It’s literally not hard to see what the problem is from an arm’s length away, and while Veronica could pause and take in the sight from there, she doesn’t. She ambles right up to it and finds that this little area of hers has been destroyed.

Well, that’s a bit of an understatement. Defaced is more like it.

Normally Veronica lays her calendar here, the one she keeps appointments on in case the computer crashes. It’s important to her that it sits in front of her in case she needs it; she’s precautious, is the thing. However, said calendar still sits in its place, but instead of being neat like she’d left it yesterday afternoon, it’s completely marred by sharpie.

The black ink covers nearly every page, her writing crossed out and lined with offensive things. Most of them are slurs that Veronica has to swallow down as soon as she silently reads them. Her mouth curves around the words, though, practically saying them just without the sound of her voice to bring them meaning.

Veronica slowly takes a seat in her chair, flipping through the pages very carefully. Each one is marked, but it gets sloppier as it goes along, like they ran out of abhorrent things to say about her.

And it’s when she gets to the final page that Veronica notices that the sharpie hasn’t just marked her calendar, it’s actually seeped through the paper and onto the desk. With nimble fingers, Veronica moves the calendar to the side, feels herself swallow harshly as she traces over the lines the permanent pen had left. There aren’t any fully formed words, most of the liquid that had seeped through are only black lines, but it’s easy to tell the initial intention.

How long she’s sitting there staring at all of this, Veronica isn’t sure, and that’s okay. As far as she knows, Liam’s still in there with all the other employees, and for now, she has these brief moments to let the despondency careen through her body, to have the simple contempt she has for whomever had done this to take its course until there’s nothing left to feel but a simple impasse with her emotions.

There’s no feeling like she needs to cry, or lingering anger for those who’ve done her wrong either. She’s feels a bit stale, really. Casual beyond belief despite the fact that maybe there should be more to it than this.

It’s not long after when the sound of footsteps break through her thoughts, pulling her away from her desk. At first, Veronica thinks it’s Marcel walking away, giving her some kind of space to process everything before she ultimately gets back to work because that’s what she’s going to have to do regardless of her stuff being fucked.

However, when she glances to her left, Marcel is still standing there, hands in his pockets again while Liam comes into view. His office door is adjacent to Veronica’s desk, and obviously there’d be reason for him walking past this area.

Thing is, Liam notices her, his eyes trailing over her hands because they’re still resting against her desk. And then he flicks his gaze upon her face, probably watches as she breathes in and out, swallows down the fact that there’s a lack of malice in her appearance. There is no movement on either of their parts, Liam not walking towards either Marcel or Veronica to apologize for what’s been done, no explanation, not even a gentle nod. Veronica doesn’t give him anything either, just tries to make sense of how it goes from here.

There’s nothing and everything on her mind, and for the first time in quite some time, Veronica just wishes she could turn herself away and busy herself with work. That in itself won’t make things better, but avoidance tends to cure everything, at least for a little while.

Their staring match doesn’t last long when Liam’s the first to break away. Veronica thinks he clears his throat before he takes his leave, but that just might be wishful thinking. Instead, Liam disappears into his office, closing it behind him, and that should be the end of it.

But it’s not. Not yet, at least. Veronica wants to know why, and the only way to get those answers is to actually be brave enough to go to Liam, who’s probably still indignant about the situation. Knowing Veronica, she likes her peace when she’s angry, and maybe Liam’s the same way, but what better way to find out the truth than to poke right where it hurts?

Marcel makes no move to stop her, even though he has plenty of time to do so. That means he’s either staying out of her way because he knows she’s not going to easily settle down, or he’s certain that this is an issue only Veronica can solve.

When Veronica gets to the office door, she’s polite enough to knock. It’s not timid, and she doesn’t even wait for Liam to give her the go-ahead to come in. Which, in any other circumstance, she knows better than to do that; although, she also has a feeling that Liam might be expecting her anyway.

Liam’s sitting behind his desk, a stack of folders before him. He’s looking through one of them, flipping through the files like he’s just trying to blow off some steam. There’s no way he’s reading them, not if he’s able to read an entire page of words in less than five seconds. He doesn’t greet her, just continues on with what he’s doing until Veronica approaches him. There’s a safe distance between them, not because she thinks he’d do anything, but because it’ll be so much easier to stand her ground when she’s not directly situated so close. The warm brown of his eyes, and the furrow of his brow will only cease her ire, and Veronica wants to keep that close to her right now, wants to let the anger and hurt flow through her until she’s exasperated herself enough to put it in the past.

“I’m sure you’re aware that Marcel’s told me what happened,” she starts off saying.

Liam, in response, just snorts, and the flaring of his nostrils does nothing but make Veronica tighten her jaw and curl her hand around the chair in front of Liam’s desk. “Then it’s a good thing, I guess,” he adds. “Guess I won’t have to fill you in. Not that I’d have to anyway since it seems like you're privy to everything that goes on in this office.”

Veronica’s mood sours even further after that, her defense on the rise. “Excuse me? I don’t seem to recall anyone having a problem with that before. In fact,” she says steadily, “everyone here’s found it quite useful.”

The folder closes as soon as Liam lets go of it, dropping his arm to the table before finally giving Veronica his face to look at. Not that she needed it to continue on with their conversation, but it’s nice to see he’s got a little respect going for himself here. “Then you knew what was going on, and you failed to tell me.”

It’s accusatory, and rightfully so because that’s the truth. Veronica did know about the harassment because she’d been in the center of it. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t aware I had to report personal problems to my employer, but if that’s a new requirement, I guess I’ve already helped you out with that. Should I fill you in on anymore details of my life I’ve somehow failed to share?”

Nothing changes on Liam’s face except the fact that he cocks an eyebrow, and deliberately stares her down. “This was much less personal than it was professional, and if you can’t see that, we’re going to have a problem.”

“Really?” And Veronica can’t help it if she cocks her hip, crosses her arms, too. She never meant to feel this tense, but that slides over his shoulders and down her spine. “What I told you was in confidence, _outside_ of work, and you used that to your advantage by taking it out on a floor full of your employees. _That_ makes it personal, Liam, just as much as _you_ made it professional. This was mine to deal with, not yours.”

Liam gives her a sardonic smile and lifts himself out of his seat. The fact that he buttons up his suit jacket, holds himself with squared shoulders, and visibly becomes every bit of a businessman that they both know he can be, is frustrating to say the least. “Funny that, though,” he handles some of the folders, gathering them before using them to point to Veronica, “because last time I checked, the entire office knew excluding myself. Be angry with me all you want, but at the end of the day, you did a wonderful job _dealing_ with the situation.”

The way Liam looks now is almost regal, the sarcastic asshole that he is. He doesn’t look smug, probably won’t allow himself that luxury since he already delivered a blow that mentally sends Veronica reeling back. Her breath stops short, and if there were ever a moment she felt like her whole world stopped, she’d say it was this exact moment.

Because Liam’s right. She’s not enough of a fool to argue with him. Which leads to the question why she’s here in the first place. Part of her anger does lie with the fact that she hadn’t wanted this to become an issue, hadn’t want to drawn attention to herself, let alone the idea that anyone had been taking the piss out of her.

So, maybe she’d been looking for someone to get angry at because she hasn’t really done anything about the situation, fooling herself into thinking that if she swept it under the rug, it’d disappear. But that hadn’t been the case, and Liam took the opportunity and used it to his advantage - to Veronica’s advantage - because now she’s not going to have to deal with insolent twats who play petty games.

Maybe she’s just upset with herself that she hadn’t been the one to figure it out. Too caught up on not making it a big deal only resulted in the opposite.

The room is silent after that, and while Veronica should leave because there’s nothing more she can say, she doesn’t. For whatever reason, her feet are planted here, and maybe she’s just trying to recover from being wrong.

In that time span, Liam clears his throat, and whether that’s meant to grab Veronica’s attention, it only does the job in the smallest way possible.

She shuffles her stance, lets her arms fall to her side, and looks at Liam through the thick of her lashes for only so long. It’s hard to hold his gaze, and each time she does, she’s the first to look away.

“I’d like to believe I’m a decent man, and maybe that’s not true, but if there’s one thing I’d like for myself, it’s to be kind to my employees,” Liam begins. He sounds hushed snow, caught between being demanding and kindly forthright. “They deserve a place to work without any issues because that’s the last thing anyone else needs in their life. And that’s a big deal here, a policy set in place because we’re a reputable company for taking care of them and our customers.” The soles of Liam’s shoes do not squeak. He’s probably wearing some insanely expensive design meant to be sleek but comfortable. It’s also most likely the reason as to why Veronica doesn’t hear Liam move around his desk until his voice sounds close to her. “I’m not going to have that tampered with because people couldn’t act like adults. So, yes,” and when Veronica does rest her eyes upon him, he’s sitting at the corner of his desk, folders in hand, but he looks sincere nonetheless, “you were involved, part of the reason for today, but when I’ve got employees who believe it’s okay to run others into the ground, going so far as to deface company property - on purpose or otherwise - then it no longer becomes an issue only about you.”

He’s soothing in all the wrong ways, Liam. And that’s perfectly unfair, is what it is. He’s calm, and he’s rational, and despite the fact that he’d been a little degrading before, at least he’s speaking to her. Veronica can accept the fact that she fucked up, but at least Liam’s not rubbing it in her face.

That probably makes him the bigger person in this situation, doesn’t it?

“You’re important here, Veronica, and I wish you’d told me.” And damnit, she’s not going to cry, but screw him, honestly. “But I’m not going to stand here with regret over something that should’ve been handled a while ago. I respect all of my employees for what they do, but a company is simply a company, and without the effort of _good_ people behind it, then what does that make us?”

Whether he’s leaving room for her to speak, it doesn’t really matter because the silence that ensues isn’t something Veronica is going to use to her advantage. Her voice is finished here; Liam has made that quite clear even if that wasn’t his intention.

“Now,” and this is the point where Liam moves from his position, slowly walking up to Veronica until he’s handing her the folders he’d previously been looking at, “these need to be sent to the mailroom. They’re expecting them, so there’s nothing else you need to do but drop them off.”

Veronica accepts them with ease. After all, it’s her job to do tasks like this, and there’s no reason she should refuse.

Standing there for only a moment or two longer, Veronica gives Liam a nod but nothing more than that. She’s not embarrassed, far from it, actually. It’s just hard to admit the fact that she was clearly wrong about this _entire_ ordeal, not just about Liam’s choices in firing those who’d been responsible.

And it’s kind of weirdly funny now that she thinks about it; there’d only been one person she’d been able to put a face to, and she’d seen him leave not too long ago. Other than that, and anyone else Liam fired, Veronica had not seen and will never actually know unless she asks. What’s done is done, however, and she’s not going to be the one to bring it up to Liam, nor is she going to provoke Marcel into telling her either. The fact that she doesn’t know isn’t much of a burden as it probably should be. Rather, that gives her a sense of peace more than anything else. Her vexation still lies underneath the surface of her skin, blood just at the boiling point, but she’s already let some of it loose, and Veronica thinks that’s enough for one day. She’ll find other outlets than by saying anything else she might regret.

As Veronica gets to the door of Liam’s office (the one she’d managed to close behind her, knowing full well that if she hadn’t, Marcel would’ve stuck around to listen; he’s probably out there now anyway, waiting for any repercussions to follow because of her hasty actions), there’s still that one last question on her mind. It seems like everything and nothing has truly been solved, and the longer she has time to think about this, the more she knows she’ll come to certain conclusions about where she stands and how to go on from here. Certainly, that had been her the night of the office party, full of instant remorse with the way she handled that particular situation.

But the thing is, her ill temper started somewhere. Hell, _Liam’s_ annoyance started somewhere, and it began long before they found her desk.

“Did someone tell you about this?” she finds herself asking. Veronica only turns on her heel, just enough to face Liam without doing so fully. Believe it or not, it’s more like a defense mechanism, shielding at least half of herself away from him and his words lest they upset her anymore than they already have. “There was no reason for you to find out.”

It’s her poor choice of words that has Liam looking pensive. Veronica’s just admitted that she’d never intended for him to hear about this, and that also sounds like the breaking of some kind of trust between them. Obviously, her decision not to tell Liam about herself _or_ the coercion from now ex-employees, was made long before any of this mess even happened. At the time, it’d been safe to say that the path was avoidable, with Veronica going so far as to believe that it’d _never_ take place. But then a series of events happened that was out of everyone’s hand because someone read her files and decided to use that to their advantage for mindless gossip. They hadn’t thought about the consequences of their actions, and while they were to blame - the fucking new hire in HR - it’s Veronica that’s left with the repercussions.

It’s Liam that’s left with them too because now he’s lost a few people in his division, and now that Veronica thinks about it, she wonders how that’s going to look to those higher up in the company. Liam’s going to have to have an explanation to give because otherwise, those previous employees could definitely sue for wrongful termination.

All of it’s just one huge mess, really. What had started out as something simple has now turned into a clusterfuck.

“I had a hunch,” Liam says as he stands there. There might be pity deep in his eyes, but Veronica chooses not to see it like that. It’s like an empty sadness that sits there instead, like he wishes that none of this turned out the way that it ultimately did. If anything, Liam’s empathizing with her, and that’s a nice thought, it being the one satisfying thing she’s going to be able to take away from all of this. “After that night, it made a little more sense to me why some things just weren’t adding up with you.”

Whatever that’s supposed to mean, Veronica doesn’t want to know. The context could be anything, really, and while Liam could potentially go into it, Veronica’s thankful that he doesn’t end up doing so. Whether that’s for her sake or his own, that’ll forever remain a mystery as well.

“That’s the first and the last time I ever want to see someone walking out of a room crying, especially at this company.” Liam doesn’t tack on any other words to that, and he doesn’t need to because he’s already caught Veronica’s complete attention with them. Still, though, she doesn’t want to cry; the feeling to do so is just not there. However, there is a thickness in her throat, full of some kind of emotion she just doesn’t know how to place right now.

And that’s okay because Veronica leaves it at that, doesn’t make another sound as she exits Liam’s office.

True to what she thought before, Marcel is waiting for her by her desk. He’s leaned up against it, arms crossed and notices her the moment she steps out of the room. Neither of them speak despite the fact that it’s really clear Marcel wants to say something. Veronica just shakes her head and walks directly past him.

“Where are you going?” he eventually asks once he realizes his friend is not heading in his direction.

There’s only room for small talk anyway, and Veronica will gladly take that twice-fold. “Dropping these off for Liam,” she says, holding up all the folders in her hands. “And then I’m going to step outside for some fresh air.”

And what she really means by that - and what Marcel can surely figure out - is that that’s not the complete truth. Veronica might leave for some air, but it won’t be fresh. Cigarette smoke will be the only thing that’s going to truly comfort her right now.

++

_Harry and Marcel were the twins that people loved and hated. As a child, Harry was known for being smooth. It didn't mean he was good with the ladies, rather he had a knack for getting his way. Marcel, more often than not, was his moral compass. They relied heavily on one another growing up, especially when Marcel was the small kid with glasses. He was a target, and Harry wouldn't stand for that._

_Zayn’s known them since the day they were born._

_Eleanor joined their lot at nine years old, shoved her way into their little group of three because she had nothing better to do and the other girls had made fun of her nose._

_From there on out it'd been the four of them until the beginning of college where Louis and Niall showed up. At the time, Louis was dating some chick, and while Eleanor swears they waited to hook up until he'd broken up with his then girlfriend, that knowing smile still says otherwise._

_Niall and Marcel, well, they were a couple that were so in love with one another, yet were too blind to see it. They danced around one another because Marcel was sorely convinced that Niall was straight, a proper lad kind of straight, definitely, and wouldn’t find him all that appeasing._

_That is, until dear old Harry blurted out their secrets one night, and although it could be said all hell broke loose, it was more along the lines of relief that the two men put behind their stubbornness and decided to give it a go._

_That left Zayn and Harry all on their lonesome, but if either was asked, it was better that way._

++

Thursday evening finds Veronica on the couch with Harry watching an old rerun of _Fresh Prince_. It’s the only thing in the room that’s keeping them from actually speaking to one another, Veronica having come in after work, taken a shower and dressed in boxers and a t-shirt. After that, Marcel and Niall had left for a night out, and while Veronica would very much like Eleanor over here to keep her company too, she’d claimed illness despite the fact that she should hear Louis snickering in the background.

Which was fine by her, then. If Eleanor was gonna choose her sex life over them spending time together, then that’s not too big of a problem. (She also texted Veronica a minute after they hung up and promised to buy her dinner sometime this weekend. It’s a cheap tactic for forgiveness, but who the fuck turns down free food?)

Either way, it’s a quiet night. It’s rather boring, if she’s honest. Not that Harry and the television aren’t good company, but there are better things to do.

Like, maybe actually getting rid of that buzz that sits just in the back of her mind, under her skin where it needs to be scratched away. Her thoughts are racing, and it’s like they’re all bubbling over, causing her to pick at her nails, play with the hem of her shirt, move constantly on the couch until one of Harry’s hands finds itself on her knee as a silent way of asking her to quit moving.

“Do I need to go get my secret stash of Jack to get you to calm down, or are you going to spit it out?”

Veronica huffs. “I don’t know.”

Harry noticeable rolls his eyes, and while he’s closer to the remote to actually mute the teli, he doesn’t do that because apparently it’s a cool thing to talk over the program. “You’ve got three seconds to decide, or I’m kicking you out of the living room.”

And she’s not that annoying; c’mon. “I pay rent. I’m pretty sure I can sit here if I want.”

Instead of actually taking her snappish tone as an offense, Harry cocks one of his eyebrows while he leans back into the cushions. “Well-”

“I fucked it up with Liam, okay?” Veronica says roughly, and as soon as she says it, she takes in a deep breath and closes her eyes to calm her nerves down. “Sorry.”

“Not what I was expecting, but sure. Tell me about it, Veronica.”

His eyes only reflect the television, white and black blurs as Veronica looks at him and wonders why the hell he’s gotta be so impassive about this shit. “You asked me what was wrong.”

“Earlier,” Harry notes. “Like, before you told me you didn’t know.”

“Well, I did know, didn’t I?”

“So,” Harry starts before actually muting the tv this time. “Is this the part where you’re going to be forthcoming now? Or am I going to have to wait for you to justify yourself first, and then explain the situation before you come to a conclusion and solve your own problem?”

Veronica tuts and scrunches up her face. “You’ve been watching too many chick flicks.”

Harry flips her off, and Veronica responds by shoving him with the hint of a smile upon her face. She feels a little better, though, even if Harry’s done nothing but be sarcastic. It helps her failing attempt to forget about her worries, at least for the time being.

"Seriously though, Harry."

The purse of her lips reveals her seriousness, and Harry takes note of that by sitting upright and clearing his throat. "What could you have possibly done to screw up so badly that it can't be fixed?"

"What makes you think this _can_ be fixed?" Her hair's in a ponytail, the one she put it in after she go out of the shower. And while it's off her neck, it's still partially wet, little droplets of water rolling down her back until her t-shirt manages to catch them and by soaking it up. "Because I'm an idiot, and apparently I keep proving that to myself by constantly fucking up."

"Veronica," Harry says, and it's a little bit sharp and somewhat demanding, and it's not fair how he makes her feel like a child being reprimanded. "Everyone knows at least one fuck up in their life, and you, sadly, are not it.”

"You don't understand," Veronica sighs.

And then she's met with a snort and Harry pointing at himself. "Hello, nice to me you. I'm Harry Styles. I'm on my way - if not already there - to becoming an alcoholic, fell in love too easily, all the while acting like a dick half the time instead of dealing with my emotions."

Veronica blinks in response but decides to play along when Harry extends his hand in an effort to shake hers. It's a little corny, but surely her friend has a point here. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Veronica,” she starts off with. “I'm genderqueer, and sometimes I feel guilty about it. On top of that, I told my boss that secret, brushed him off when he actually showed interest in me,” the corner of her mouth falls into a frown, grimacing at her stupidity; it’s one thing to know what she’s done but another thing entirely when it’s actually said out loud, “and then proceeded to get angry at him for actually taking the time to prove that I'm not as expendable like I've always believed myself to be.”

The great thing about Harry is that he’s not the kind to feel sorry for others. He’ll pat them on the back, offer an ear, maybe a bit of advice, but he always makes one feel better without even saying a word. Whether it’s his presence or his genuine interest, it’s sometimes hard to tell, but it’s the thought that counts, at least. If anything, Veronica will walk away from this knowing that Harry gave it a go rather than simply brushing her off. His previous action of the night might throw everyone else off (him being nonchalant), but Veronica knows; their other friends know, and deep down, Harry knows, too. He likes being a decent man; it’s just taking him a little awhile for his decisions to catch up with that fact.

“You worry yourself too much,” is Harry’s answer, and if it were that easy, surely Veronica wouldn’t be here right now relying on her friend to hear her out.

“Maybe,” she gives.

“Which is okay to do.” Harry shrugs. “Not all the time, though. You’ll end up with gray hairs, and that would not suit you right now. You’re young, yeah.”

Veronica side-eyes him, reaches around for her ponytail and brushes her hands through her still damp locks. “Can’t help it, I guess.”

When she glances back at the teli - because that’s what Harry’s done at this point - she finds that the program is still on. It’s on the edge of her lips to tell Harry to unmute it, let the both of them get back to laugh tracks and silly, cheap jokes meant to entertain. But there’s something else that’s bothering her too, and it’s just a little something she’s been thinking about for quite some time now, ever since Liam kissed her.

See, Veronica came to the realization quite quickly that even after she’d told Liam about her gender, he never once looked _disgusted_. She’d built it up in her mind that that’s something he’d do, not because she ever believed him to be that kind of person, but she knows how deviant she is from the rest of society. And that doesn’t make her a special case or anything of the sort, but it’s hard existing in such a place where everyone doesn’t really feel the same way she does. Well, they’re comfortable with themselves, sure, but they’ve stuck to the genders already defined, and it’s a hard pill to swallow to follow a different road where that issue is concerned.

Which basically means that people aren’t going to understand, not all the time, and Veronica sees how that’s acceptable. Learning’s a part of life, but what she’d been _scared_ of mostly was Liam - or anyone she fell in contact with, for that matter - using it against her in some type of fashion. Scenarios had been popular with her; _if_ he’d found out, if other people in her life found out, then what? It happened at the office, and it turned out bloody awful. Things hadn’t escalated; at least, they hadn’t yet, but it’s one thing to hold people in high regards and not know how they’re going to react versus understanding who someone is and realizing how much more of a chance they have at taking something negatively. The thought of that alone is why secrets exist in the first place. And by this, it means that Veronica holds Liam in such a light (thinks he's someone important), that whatever kind of reaction he’d ever have towards her was frightening because she’s been there, done that with the disapproval, and will most likely continue on with her nerves if she ever seeks to pursue this dating thing in general.

The thing is, it’s not just about her _liking_ Liam either. He’s been her boss the past couple of years. There’s also the fact that they’d formed a nice camaraderie between the two of them. With both of those things established, she’d been prepared for what would seem like being a failure in Liam’s eyes. Maybe not in the general sense of work ethic, but something along those lines, at least. And when Liam actually proved her wrong - a conclusion she’d had to come to when she’d laid in bed that night and thought outside of her previously created mentality on the subject - that meant she had to redefine everything she ever thought she knew.

While Liam hadn’t necessarily commented on acceptance, actions speak louder than words, and he proved to her a second time that maybe not all was as it seemed. Going out of his way to ask questions and solve a problem that should’ve truly been taken care of awhile ago, had to actually mean something in the grand scheme of things. Sure, there’s the argument that he’d kissed her and was taking action because he liked her. But the fact remains that even if that were true, _Liam still liked her_ to some degree.

Even if what he did wasn’t out of romantic interest, it’d been done out of pure kindness, thoughtfulness, and ultimately _friendship_.

It’s something any of her current friends would’ve done, to be honest, and it’d taken Veronica some time for her to actually accept that, too. Part of her found comfort in telling herself that Liam would hate her, but truly, she’d only held herself back on that one. And yeah, she might’ve saved herself some heartache if Liam _had_ turned out to be a dick, but she also never allowed Liam to give her a chance either.

Now that she’s sitting here in the aftermath of an argument, it’s the only thing she can think about.

“Maybe that’s something I hadn’t mentally prepared myself for,” Veronica eventually says. She brings her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them while her arms encircle her legs. “I’d been too busy thinking about all the potential hate I’d get, that I’d purposefully kept my distance from those who hadn’t actually meant any harm at all.”

“Veronica,” Harry says, voice swooping in that tone that tells her it’s not all her fault. “You can’t blame yourself for that. Especially after the way some people have treated you.”

She laughs quietly, a little more breathy and quite sad. “Probably, yeah.” And she flicks her gaze up to Harry’s who’s staring at her with a little bit of concern and a whole lot of love. “Thing is, it’s always been easy around you, everyone, ‘cuz most of you knew me before. Not like I changed much, though, still the same person.” Maybe her lips are red now from the way she bites at them, or her tongue is dry from having to speak the truth, but those are minuscule things, little details that show her true emotions rather than just speaking them. “But you, and Marcel, and Eleanor got to see both sides, whereas everyone _now_ , well, they get this. And that’s on me; ‘m not saying I regret it, but like,” the tilt of her head gives away the fact that she’s in her thoughts, the way her fingers grip her flesh a little tighter, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want Harry’s arm around her shoulders right about now, “what if they had a choice? What if they picked Zayn over who I am now? Liked ‘im better or something. What if they got that chance?”

And they do, sort of. Veronica hasn’t used the _he_ pronoun in so long, she often wonders if her friends have forgotten. It sits there, though, in the back of her mind. It’s not like it’s a double personality thing either; it’s just a part of her soul that feels like the male she’d been born as. To her, that’s not repulsive, and she accepts it with great ease, but it’d been easier to sway to one side of that gender spectrum than another because not only had she felt it, but it’d been easier to make it look like she was one over the other for safety’s sake.

Veronica chose this, yes, (well, chose it to some extent; she can't help the way she feels, but she did chose to follow her heart), and she finds it funny that while she holds on tight to her decision, there’s still a part of her that questions whether she ever made the right one. Maybe she should’ve let a beard grow, had shorter hair, and chose to strictly shop in the men’s section of clothing stores instead of both departments.

But while those thoughts circulate, it’s like Harry knows something is up. Thing is, his answer not only silences her mind, but it answers her previous question, too. Harry may not be wise all the time, nor smart with some of his choices, but if there’s one thing he's been for Veronica, it’s supportive.

He’s always believed in her.

Maybe Veronica needs to do the same for herself.

“I think it’s a good thing they don’t have that choice,” Harry says. He holds her gaze, his green eyes a little brighter and so damn honest. “And even still, we - your friends - didn’t have it back then either.”

In the split second Harry looks away, Veronica knows that there’s more that crosses over his entire mind and onto his face, more emotion, more _something_ , and it’s not anything she would’ve ever expected to come from him. Maybe in due time she would’ve, but while they’re sitting on this lumpy ass couch, the television on mute without so much as alcohol in sight to help them get through the tough talk, Harry lets go of something within himself. Be it anger, or spite, or the realization of what he can’t have, it’s gone within the blink of an eye.

Because when Harry turns back to Veronica, all she can find is utter clarity. It causes her to lift her head up, to really pay attention, and while she wants to go on and ask about this sudden dawning, it’s so easily found in his words. “Might’ve thought you’d overcome changing yourself, babe, but it sounds to me like you’ve still got a little ways to go.”

It’s not unexpected when Harry leaves her presence after that. He shuffles into the kitchen and out of sight with nothing else to give, and that’s okay because as his words still ring in Veronica’s ears, it makes sense.

The people they are and have been and know have made stupid fucking decisions, but those are based in the past, and while they cannot be changed, there’s always hope to learn from them. And that’s the thing, isn’t it? It’s a learning process; every single choice is, and it’s about a) learning to deal with it, or b) growing _because_ of it.

Veronica’s made some very terrible choices, but they’re hers, and she’s the only one that has the ability to do what she will with them: let them swallow her whole, or bring a positive outcome in their wake.

Definitely won’t be easy to change her thoughts after spending such a long time thinking there was no hope for her, but she learned to change herself once, and surely, Veronica can do it again.

+

Yeah, that pesky little thing that people should have but don’t, or do, but shouldn’t. It’s all a matter of opinion, really.

Either way, courage is like a fine wine. It takes multiple sips of bitter, tangy, sweet, sour red, or white liquid before settling on just one that appeases the taste buds. There’s different kinds in different areas, ones served during certain meals, and it’s an art, is what it is, a molding from the drunkenness that only delights until there’s an unopened bottle sitting in a wine cellar because the owner is too afraid to let it go.

It’s not necessarily the fear of letting confidence go, per se, as much as there’s a need to maintain it. That in itself is what’s scary. Finding it, holding onto it, knowing how and when to use it is a slippery slope. Certainly it’s a skill people overlook. It’s definitely something Veronica’s done for quite some time, and now that she’s searching for it, her understanding of such an emotion becomes a little more appreciative for what she hasn’t always had and what she’d used it for in the past.

It sits in her throat at the moment, though, steady and thrilling all at once. She’s not drunk on it, not yet, at least, but she thinks at some point she might get there. Mostly, it’s about taking the first step before diving off the deep end.

And that’s what she’s tried to tell herself she should do. Just go into Liam’s office and apologize, straight up tell him she’s very sorry for the way she’s been, extend her side of the conversation, the one she should’ve given to him that night when he kissed her.

Because she owes him that much, at least, an apology forged from the bottom of her heart, out of friendship rather than the deep need that has her wanting to be _with_ him. Veronica knows by now that she doesn’t have to explain _all_ of herself to Liam. She’d been right about that when she told him as much the day she got mad at him, but what he does deserve is the honest-to-god truth as to why she backed off so suddenly, kept a distance from him lest he push her away first, and more importantly, why she’d been angry enough to confront him in his office.

_That_ certainly needed explaining, regardless of any other matter at hand. She regrets it, partially because she realized afterwards that sure, she needed to let off some steam, but that hadn’t been the way to do it. Not at work, not _at_ Liam.

She can feel her face heat up. Her conversation has been the only thing on her mind as of late. Well, that and her job. Veronica’s good at her job, and she’s adamant about not letting personal crisis’ fuck it up for her. At this point, it’s about deciding on what she needs to say, how to start the conversation between the two of them. Depending on how she does that, it’ll lead the rest of the discussion in a certain direction, and Veronica wants to make sure she’s going to be able to maintain that respectfully. She can’t get scared and back down. She’s in, or she’s out; that’s what she’s decided.

This has also been something she hasn’t mentioned to anyone. It’s not that she’d needed to, or even wanted, but certainly she’d have Marcel breathing down her neck if she had said something. He’d probably tell her she didn’t need to do anything, to let sleeping dogs lie, or at least make _sure_ this was something she needed to do, not out of sympathy but because she meant it, that it’d be used to lay her consciousness to rest.

And she’s kept all of that in mind, she has. Gone over her reasons, potential questions from Liam, the fact that she might fall flat on her face. Veronica’s treating it as if she were going into a meeting, and being overly prepared is never a hindrance in that regard. She probably shouldn’t be so worried about having a little chat with Liam either, but the thing is, part of this comes from a vulnerable place, and while she’d already been there and back with Liam, that doesn’t mean she has any more or less of a reason to overthink things..

Doing that had gotten her into this mess, and now she’s hoping it’s going to lead her out of it, too.

For now, it’s a Wednesday, probably. Veronica has to look down at the little clock in the corner of her computer just to make sure that’s right. She’ll be on break in about fifteen minutes, and while she’s normally very eager for that part of her day to show up, she’s not really feeling it. See, Veronica realizes she’s having just a plain old _weird_ day. It’s not the kind where everything goes wrong, like one crappy event happens consecutively. Instead, it feels a bit solemn, and maybe that’s got to do with the fact that when she’d left the flat, the sky had been ashy in color, small bits of lightning to go along with the low rumbles of thunder. It hadn’t rained then, and she’s not quite sure if it has now since she doesn’t sit near any windows.

But alongside that fact of the weather, she’d woken up with her head a little fuzzy, sleep completely evident all throughout her body.

_(“You look like shit.”_

_Veronica cocked an eyebrow and turned around on her heel. She’d just been about to head out the door when Harry stumbled out of his bedroom, on his way towards the kitchen._

_“I’ve got a full face of makeup on,” she countered._

_Harry waved her off, balling his hands into a fist before rubbing his eyes. He’d only slowed down enough to sheepishly grin at her. “Yeah, I know.”_

_There wasn’t any time to scold him, but Veronica left with her finger in the air and a scowl on her lips.)_

So, she’s counting down until lunch is here, not because she’s going to go out and get anything; might actually try some coffee, actually, see if that might help her wake her up a bit.

It’s after she falls back into what’s left of her work (as of late, that’s consisted of buying a whole new calendar and rewriting down _everything_ she’d had on the previous one), the elevator door dings, and out comes a very, very wet Marcel.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Veronica furrows her brow as she stands up from her desk, immediately rounding the corner while Marcel simply blushes and tries to remove his shoulder bag.

“Well, I _was_ leaving for lunch, but then the rain just hit.”

And yeah, Veronica can hear it if she really pays attention. It’s very soft, a quiet hum amongst the ringing of phones, the faxing machine going, and the various voices that echo throughout their level of the building. “It’s called an umbrella, dumbass.”

She takes his bag from him, hopes that its contents aren’t as soaked as Marcel is. “Guess I’ll be spending some time in the bathroom, then.”

It’s not like she can help it, but she snorts before she knows what she’s doing, hands curling around the strap of Marcel’s case while she tries to keep herself together.

“Veronica,” Marcel points, and he shakes his wrist, little droplets of water flying off of him. “Don’t be a dick.”

She tsks, and reaches out for his wrist in order to stop him. He’s not sopping wet to the point where he’s leaving a large trail of water in his wake, but the longer he stands here looking like a lost little kid, the more the puddle beneath his feet is growing. “You’re not a dog. Quit it.”

As soon as she lets go of him, she saddles over to her desk, placing Marcel’s bag behind it before joining him again. “C’mon.” She tugs at the white button down shirt that’s pretty much plastered to his frame. “You can clean yourself up.”

Marcel easily follows, ambling behind Veronica, trying his best not to slip and fall. She ushers him into the men’s bathroom, doesn’t step inside it herself, but keeps the door open to tell him to, “-keep it locked.” She gestures to the door handle. “No one uses these bathrooms unless they’re waiting on an appointment. You’ll be fine until you’re dry.”

“There are no towels?” Marcel asks, a small plea in his voice like this is the worst idea ever.

“Not any I’d use.” And she shrugs because yeah, they probably have little dish towels around here somewhere, but who knows when they’d last been washed. In this situation, Veronica would urge Marcel just to go home, but that means walking out in the rain in order to get to the parking lot and driving home soaking wet. Knowing her friend, it’d also mean putting him back at least an hour or two in his schedule, and that surely wouldn’t be acceptable to Marcel. “Just dry your clothes as much as you can,” she tells him. “Better than sitting and waiting for them to dry.”

Marcel nods, unbuttons the first button of his shirt (and it’s funny now that Veronica glances over his body; he’s not wearing his usual sweater-vest, doesn’t look as neat as he usually does, and she wonders if that has anything to do with the weird feeling she’s had all day instead of the fact that he simply got caught in the rain) before he pauses, narrowing his eyes behind his glasses and quickly looking up at Veronica through the fringe of his hair. It’s completely unkempt, the gel having washed out, or at least lost its hold against the rain. “You’ve done this before, then?”

To that, Veronica bites the inside of her cheek and promptly turns her head. She’s sure there’s the sprinkling of a blush across the high points of her cheeks and that Marcel can probably see it very clearly from where he’s standing.

It also doesn’t help that he snickers. “Really, Veronica?”

Frowning, she turns back to Marcel only to find him looking a little cheeky, and it’s then that it dawns on her _exactly_ what he’s thinking. “Oh, fuck off,” she bites, but there’s way more humiliation in it than none at all. “That _definitely_ hasn’t happened. Who the fuck do you think-”

“Problem?”

Veronica jumps, dropping her hand quite suddenly. The result of that is the resounding thud the door makes as it closes and blocks both Marcel and Veronica’s view of each other. When she turns, Veronica finds Liam in the middle of the lobby, the elevator doors closing just behind him. He’s got nothing in his hands except a folder and an umbrella, and Veronica would laugh and point it out to Marcel if he were actually standing next to her or if Liam had come in just a couple of minutes early.

“No,” she says quickly and smiles while she’s at it. It’s the first time she’s seen Liam today, him having not shown up this morning for work. It’s not a surprise, to say the least. Liam’s hours have been all over the place lately, and whether that’s because he simply doesn’t _have_ to show up, or because all of his outside affairs involving the business are truly keeping him away. “Marcel got caught up in the rain because he forgot his umbrella.” Which, it sounds really stupid the longer she stands here staring at her boss.

Again, she repeats to herself, it’s been a really fucking weird day.

Which, actually, doesn’t get any better when Liam clears his throat, licks his lips and addresses her again. He completely ignores her previous statement, only gives a small hint that he’s heard what she said by, “Okay, so you’re not busy, then.”

It’s a statement, and Veronica’s inclined to actually correct him on that front, but then again she’d just been standing in front of the men’s bathroom, seemingly talking to herself; so, yeah, sure, she’s definitely not busy. “Anything I can help you with?” As she asks, she clears her mind for the moment, totally prepared for anything he throws her way because that’s her job, and Liam knows it, too.

“Yeah,” Liam finds himself saying, and he kind of looks a little surprised at that.

While Veronica takes note, she doesn’t comment, lets her boss figure out what he needs to say so that they can go from there.

“Need to speak with you, actually.” His voice is gruff, a little lower than normal, and Veronica’s sure she’d miss his every word if she weren’t already staring at him intently, waiting on instructions. Although, to her surprise, his request is simple enough and nothing out of the ordinary despite Liam acting a little hesitant to comment on anything at all.

“Sure,” she agrees, and when Liam starts walking, Veronica doesn’t know if she’s meant to follow him or if his needing to speak with her actually means sometime later.

So, and more so out of respect (better safe than sorry, really), Veronica follows him but slows down when she nears her desk. She hopes that maybe Liam will give her a hint or turn around, at least, to let her know what’s up.

And by some chance, he does. Liam pauses just before he makes it all the way to his office door. He only turns slightly, enough to face Veronica before telling her, “Conference room, fifteen minutes.”

With that, Liam disappears, shutting himself behind his door and leaving Veronica out here alone. Which, that’s fine. It gives her enough time to try and process what the fuck’s about to happen, while simultaneously finding a roll of paper towels to wipe up some of the mess Marcel had dragged in.

It’s a distraction, is what it is. That’s very helpful.

+

During those fifteen minutes, Veronica had mopped up what she could of the rain and attended to Marcel after he’d felt dry enough to step out of the bathroom. He’d never been one to actually learn how to put on a tie. A bow? Sure, absolutely, but a tie, heaven forbid.

Now, though, Veronica’s just a few steps away from the conference room, the grand ole’ place Liam had scored with the investor, where big meetings take place in their department, and other conference calls from other countries happen. Panels of glass make up one of the walls of the room; they’re all frosty in look, and whether that’s to keep things low-key, or if it was only for design purposes, Veronica doesn't know.

Either way, it’s not like she can look into the room, maybe see if she can spot Liam in there and gauge his reaction before she steps in. As far as she knows, he’s not angry, hadn’t looked remotely upset, and so now she’s bewildered about what they’ve left to talk about.

It also means that they’re alone enough for a private conversation, and Veronica wonders if it’d be tacky to bring up some of the things she’s been meaning to address with Liam. There’s a time and a place for everything, of course, but now she’s more than just a little worried.

Instead of giving herself more time to think over anything else (the fifteen minute wait enough torture as it was), Veronica heads into the room. She’s sure she doesn’t look as confident as she’d hoped to be, but she does keep her head held high as she takes a seat at the farthest end of the table. Liam obviously would’ve offered her a seat if she stood there waiting long enough, but she hadn’t wanted to give him the chance to point to one.

She’s stubborn, and Veronica’s perfectly capable of choosing her own place to sit anyway.

Liam’s already sitting down, though. He’s got a folder open, a pen in hand, and it looks like he’s editing some documents. Veronica can’t be sure, but usually folders are filled with nonsense contracts or proposals, and it’s all very tedious stuff she’s thankful she doesn’t have to handle personally.

From there, they sit in silence for a couple of minutes, and while anyone else might think it rude of Liam since he called the meeting, and he’s technically wasting Veronica’s time, hers is not precious enough for that kind of anger. Because if she’s honest, her workload is like a feather compared to everyone else’s. However, he’s not being rude, that is; Veronica’s quite content to sit here despite her growing nerves over what Liam could possibly want to talk about.

And maybe it’s five minutes after she entered the room, or ten, even, but eventually Veronica can’t take the increasing silence. She’ll probably regret it, but she opens her mouth to speak and one of the very last things she thinks anyone should ever ask her boss is, “I’m not fired, am I?” The question slips off her tongue before she can catch it, and whether it’s a fair question or not, it’s probably up for debate. However, it’s reasonable now, maybe, given the fact that Veronica’s sitting in an empty conference room with Liam on the other end of it.

And too, Veronica’s pretty sure he looks rather uncomfortable now. Liam shifts in his seat, lets go of his pen (doesn’t drop it like he’s angry, Veronica wants to note) before sitting back and glancing over at her. He’s not in pain or anything - the kind that comes from having to fire someone (that’s never a pleasant experience), but there’s no smile of reassurance, no hint in his brown eyes when Veronica stares at him from behind her glasses.

So, as they sit there, and the silence ensues (and Veronica’s pretty sure she hears the air conditioner kick on at some point), the both of them still not speaking by then, especially after her question, she decides to take this into her own hands before Liam proceeds into whatever the fuck this is supposed to be.

“Look,” Veronica swallows, bringing her hands in front of her to clasp them together. They’re in her lap now, and she can’t help it when her thumbs rub across the back of her hand. Whether it’s to bring comfort to herself or not, she doesn’t really know. Either way, it’s not soothing, and with the steady pressure of being under his gaze, it only makes Veronica all sorts of fidgety. “I know we haven’t been on good terms lately, what with everything that’s happened-”

“I’m not firing you,” Liam eventually speaks up, cutting her off.

Veronica only nods once, doesn’t release the breath she’d been holding, nor does her shoulders relax. “Oh, okay.”

“I’ve told you before, though.” And he shifts, maybe, if Veronica could actually see him since she’s turned her gaze away from his, taking the opportunity to stare out of the large windows that overlook the city; the sky is dark, and it looks like it’s drizzling. All of it is enough to match the current air around them. “You’re an asset to this company, and I’m not one to let what happened get in the way of us working together.”

The bite to her lip makes her uncomfortable, but it’s what’s keeping her here in the moment. “You’re very kind,” she tells him because whether he knows that or not, he should. “But either way, something’s been on my mind, and I need to tell-”

Cutting her off again, Liam looks serious. He’s not grim or anything of the sort, rather adamant that Veronica take his word for what it is. “You don’t _need_ to explain anything to me.”

And Veronica, well, she wants to laugh because no, maybe not in the grand scheme of things but, “I do.” She nods, and Liam’s nearly there with his disapproval before she waves him off completely. “Look, it’s clear you’ve already forgiven me, and that’s fine, but there’s a lot more to it than that,” she urges, wants him to simply understand even before she does so herself. That’s impossible, though, but maybe her sincerity will prove that what she has to say comes from a place of having to fix things rather than brushing them under the rug.

So, and for all that it’s worth, Liam tells her to, “Go ahead, then.”

There’s nothing left there for him to say, and Veronica has the floor, and she should be grateful - she is, but that anxiety seems to crawl up her spine right at the last moment. Everything shifts just a little bit until she’s blinking back what might be tears. “Kissing someone isn’t incentive that you actually _like_ someone, I know,” she explains. “But regardless, that had been the case. _Has_ been for quite sometime now, on my part, at least.”

It’s the first time in over a year since Veronica’s admitted that to anyone new. Sure, her friends had teased, but they’d known it for far longer than that. Still, it’s like a simultaneous feeling implores her to continue. The weight of her emotions has only slightly been lifted, enough to actually feel that part of herself give. Some still sits there, ready to ooze from the wound she’s just made. “I don’t think I’ve been so terrified of something in my life.” She shakes her head at that, releasing one of those breathy kind of laughs that instigate nothing more than her stupidity.

And she’s prepared to keep going from there, but Veronica realizes that Liam makes a wounded noise, brows furrowed together. Veronica only wants to take her thumb, rub right between his eyebrows just to get him to loosen up those muscles. She feels like they’re wasted on her; he shouldn’t worry. “Of me?” His voice may or may not have cracked, but Liam looks a little devastated, like Veronica’s words have torn a hole right through his heart.

So, before Veronica lets his assumptions fly any further than where they’ve done, she quickly shakes her head. “No,” she says, and Liam’s not conceited for thinking that this is about him because it _is_ , just not in the way she accidentally made it seem. “Of what it meant if you actually liked me back.” Of course, that’s part of it, but Veronica makes sure that that answer is sufficient enough to have Liam go slack, the evidence of his relief written across his face. “Being with people isn’t exactly an easy thing when it comes to my situation.”

“Veronica.” The way he says her name to get her attention is soft, and he moves then, stands up from his seat and looks as if he’s about to make his way towards Veronica’s side of the room. However, he stops himself just in time, hand resting on the table to keep himself from walking forward, and that’s not an insult. Liam suddenly looks unsure of himself, and Veronica thinks that’s expected. “I can’t say I understand,” Liam says, bringing the both of them away from his sudden indecision, “but I’ve no problem with who you are.”

“But some people do,” she counters with her hands still in her lap. She wants to stand up, make sure they’re equal on this front, but she can’t find it in herself to do so. And as if to follow up her statement, a roll of thunder echoes off in the distance, and for a second, Veronica’s pulled away to glance outside the window again.

She thinks she should feel some kind of shock flood her, knowing what she knows now, how much of a fool she’d been in believing that Liam would think of her any different than he had in the past, that somehow she’d _change_ in his eyes. Veronica hates the labels, and how unfair of her was it to do the same to him? “You witnessed some of it,” Veronica continues, nodding towards the hall, an indication that she’s talking about the entire office. “And let me tell you, I’ve had to fight my way through a lot of ignorant assholes - much worse than what’s happened here - to get to where I am now.”

With their conversation, Veronica thinks she sounds a little dramatic, like maybe she’s laying this down a little too thick. Yet, she promised herself; _Harry_ even made it clear to her that people are ever changing beings, and her being here right now is only additional proof. Veronica doesn’t know where both her and Liam will end up. For all she knows, they could shake hands and move on, remain friends within the office as well as co-workers and everything will be lovely.

Or, well. Veronica doesn’t know the other possibilities. Maybe she does, or at least has _hopes_ , but all of that is taking a backseat to what’s most important. And what’s crucial at this point is for Veronica to finish what she’s started. “It would’ve devastated me to find out that you could’ve been like any one of them.” There is no escaping Liam’s eyes, the way he holds hers so contently with listening ears, and a processing mind. “And I’m _sorry_ for that, for even thinking it. If anything’s meant to come out of this entire situation, it’s letting you know how hypocritical I’ve been.”

Veronica leaves it at that, can’t seem to find any other words to express herself. While her admittance isn’t anything new to her, stuff she’s been thinking about for days now, it still surprises her on how honest she’s being about this. Of course, she’s told herself to be, knew what needed to be done, but hearing it with her own words, her own voice carrying itself across the room, is actually _doing_ something about her dilemma instead of putting it off.

She’s proud of herself in a way, or at least will be later on when she’s not here waiting for things to move on. Out of the corner of her eye, Veronica thinks that lightning strikes. It’s quick, and if she were to purposefully look for it, it’d be gone before she even got a glimpse.

However, it’s what seems to get Liam’s attention, not that he moves towards the windows to focuses on the rain outside, but it has him shuffling back towards his seat. He doesn’t sit down, and Veronica watches him carefully in their silence. He pulls back the folder, rearranges some papers before pulling some loose.

Whatever they are, they must be important, and Veronica thinks that they might be for her given that despite their conversation, Liam had pulled her in here for another purpose, and that reason could be in his hands. Liam, though, stares hard at the first page, and it’s difficult to actually tell if there’s a tremble in his hand; it looks like it, though. It’s not very noticeable, and Veronica probably wouldn’t’ve catched it had she not focused on Liam’s movements.

“I didn’t-” Liam stops himself to clear his throat. He’s got this clever way of masking his emotions whenever he needs to at work. “What a big misunderstanding this is, I think.” The way he licks the front of his teeth seems to only show that he’s willing to finish this as much as Veronica. Not that he’s tired of her company, or that he’s so willing to put all of this behind them, but that he wants to clear the air just as much as Veronica.

That not only reassures her, but Veronica actually can’t help it when the corner of her mouth quirks up.

Surprisingly, or maybe not at all, Liam matches that before he takes the necessary steps to Veronica’s side of the room. There’s some waver in his actions, not quite sure whether or not Veronica wants him over here, but she nods just once before Liam’s pulling out a chair.

“I’ve been-” and he shrugs, something small and polite like that’s supposed to help finish the rest of his sentence. He does, however, set his papers down, and Veronica’s kind enough not to look. “Dunno why today of all days.” To prove the context of his sentence, Liam glances around him, taking notice of the large conference room. Now that they’re sitting near one another, it seems rather giant, not as spacious as when they were apart. It makes talking easier, certainly, with Veronica realizing that she doesn’t feel like she has to raise her voice just for Liam to hear her.

“I wanted to ask you, actually,” and there’s a tinge of pink across his cheeks. It’s so sudden that Veronica barely catches it, but it also finally gives way to the fact that Liam had only needed to ask her about something, possibly business related, and that this, in fact, is not been that big of a deal after all.

Liam places the palm of his hand on those papers before slowly sliding them over. His fingers are spread out amongst the pages, and while Veronica tries her very best to look at Liam, it’s difficult to do so when she’s curious.

The paper, as far as she can tell, has words on it. It’d be highly unlikely that it wouldn’t, but the closer it gets, and when Liam finally does pull his hand away, Veronica’s met with…

She doesn’t know.

“I just wanted to understand,” Liam says, finally explaining himself.

Veronica’s glued to the pages, can’t bring herself to look at Liam and the way he might have his shoulders hunched, safely guarded in case Veronica gets angry.

But she’s not, and it’s unexpectedly hard to swallow when she skims over the words of the page, full of definitions and explanations, and oh god, Veronica thinks. She’s more of an asshole than she thought she was if this is what she thinks it is.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Liam tries again, pulls Veronica’s attention away from her staring. “Really didn’t know how to approach it without offending you, though.”

Veronica knows that she’s choked up. There’s no other way around that fact, and she debates on letting Liam know that she is or just remain silent so she doesn’t embarrass herself. But, in the meantime, and to hopefully give Liam every bit of reassurance so he knows he’s in the clear with her, Veronica slides the papers a little closer to herself, makes sure their stacked nice and neat in front of her before she flips through them carefully.

And it seems like they’re out of order. The numbers in the corner are out of place, and there’s only a few, but it’s the content that matters most. “You did all this?” Veronica asks like she’s in awe. It’s because she is, and for the second time in her life, she’s more than thankful that she’s followed something within herself - whether that was her heart or intuition, she doesn’t know. All that makes sense is that she wouldn’t be sitting in her place of work, talking to her boss, and staring down at a couple of pages of research that explicitly explain anything having to do with gender, the term she’d explicitly mentioned to him a few nights ago.

It doesn’t cover everything, though, but that’s not what truly matters. While the facts are important in the long run, Liam _has_ these, which meant he went out of his way to look up what Veronica had mentioned.

He took some time - _his_ time - to learn a thing or two about people similar to Veronica.

“Yes,” Liam admits quietly. “Didn’t print it all out because that would be hell,” and he laughs nervously, the palms of his hands sliding over his knees, most likely wiping off the sweat from his apprehension. “Mostly just used it as a reference so I wouldn’t forget.”

And Veronica knows exactly what comes over her at that moment. She releases the papers, resting her elbow on the table while she covers half of her face with her fingers. It’s hard trying to keep her lips from trembling, and there might be tears at the corner of her eyes, but she’s got more resolve than that, and mostly she’s just trying to keep herself from expressing her elated emotions in the most unflattering way.

“It wasn’t my intention to do this now, but you were standing there talking-”

Veronica practically giggles, reminded of how that must’ve looked, and so she fills in those with partial details. “To Marcel, not an empty bathroom, promise.”

Liam looks like he wants to ask, but there’s a graceful smile that takes over instead, and that’s really what’s most important, not stupid details of a third party. Veronica’s usually not so casual, but things have taken quite a larger turn, and there’s no need to include Marcel in their conversation now.

“Right,” Liam says, tasting Veronica’s answer. He doesn’t question it, accepts her response as if it was truth (even though it really is). “And I- like, _you’ve_ been there, Veronica, this entire time, for me, for this company, especially.”

He’s so earnest, and Veronica wants to put him out of his misery, just tell him that they’re okay because honestly, it’s one of the nicest things someone’s ever done for her. And Liam, goddamnit, he doesn’t make that sentiment any better, any less sweet when he adds, “And I thought it was high time someone was there for you.”

Now, Veronica’s not typically fond of overly public displays of affection, and while the context has nothing to do with the dating realm, it still holds true. Thing is, Veronica might be a little biased, yes, but she can let it slide because Liam is Liam, and she’s pretty sure she’s never seen someone who looks so interested, so positively _invested_ in _who_ she is and not _what_.

Veronica’s mostly been that to people, a _what_. Never a _who_ , and she’ll be damned if she knocks down any of that sincerity in Liam because she’s afraid of someone actually caring.

Instead of returning any kind of sensibility and laying it out onto the table, her emotions already expended enough for today, Veronica keeps her smile when she asks, “So, that’s why you went after them, then.”

Liam knows who she’s referring to immediately, and while he suddenly seems set on sternly telling Veronica that what he did wasn’t solely for his own gain, he seems to attain awareness over the fact that she’s only being playful. “That,” he makes a point of it, “and because it’s like I said before. There shouldn’t be _sides_ in an office.” As he talks, Liam leans forward onto the table, close enough to brush Veronica’s arm, and whether it’s on accident or not, it’s hard to tell.

It’s not like she minds, but the question is still there for her to wonder about.

“That’s not how I’ve ever wanted to run a business,” Liam continues. He’s already proved himself, and there’s no need to do it again, but that’s the kind of person Liam is, honestly. Veronica recognizes it easily, wanting to cast away any and all doubts. “Because that leads to vendettas and casualties. It’s not perfect here, but what does that say if I don’t try?”

Veronica wants to ask him where he learned his business ethics. Whether that came from previously being in a lower position, from his father, learning it in business school? She’s not sure of his smarts within the world, outside of the office, what his interests are and what they aren’t, and it’s not a startling thought. They don’t truly know one another, but Veronica would. She’d like that.

Whether that opportunity is still on the table or not, she doesn’t know, but either way, she decides to give Liam a little taste. “This one,” she points out, shuffling the papers around until she’s pointing at a word that holds a lot of meaning for her.

She watches as Liam looks down, ducks his head and scans his eyes over the definition. Right before her very own eyes, Liam soaks up one of the most important parts of Veronica’s life, and if there’s ever a moment she wants to remember, it’s this one.

Because as soon as Liam is done, nodding to himself as if he’s truly trying to understand how valuable Veronica’s label is to her, everything about him relaxes. The uncertainty drains away, and all that’s left is Liam wearing one of the most beautiful smiles Veronica thinks she’s ever seen on him.

There’s not much more she can say to that, but she does come up with something that she thinks is relatively important. If Liam’s looking this up on his own, Veronica wants to make sure that he doesn’t necessarily have to do it in secret. And by that, she means, Veronica’s here, a main source for herself, at least, and that if Liam’s determined to really know this part of her, something that’s important to a lot of people, really, then she’ll support him in that. “If you’ve got any questions, you can ask me, okay?” And she nudges him just to make sure he’s listening. “I won’t have a problem with that. You’re not going to hurt my feelings.”

Liam looks doubtful of that at first because its apparent that he realizes how severe these types of conversations can get; not wanting to step on anyone’s toes is as difficult as refraining from stepping on eggshells. But Veronica reaches out for his wrist, more for reassurance than anything else, and it’s then that Liam promises he’ll come to her for anything if he needs it.

Which, more or less, is a relief to hear, not only with the fact that Liam’s giving Veronica the chance to speak personally but that he’s now got at least a little bit of a guide to help him along the way. He doesn’t have to say it, but Veronica’s quickly beginning to realize that the important things in people’s lives - at least to those he cares about - are important to him, too.

Afterwards, Liam eventually draws back, looking at his watch and realizing that he really needs to get going… “Meetings and all that,” he says apologetically.

But Veronica waves him off. “I’m sorry for wasting so much of your time.”

She doesn’t necessarily mean it as it comes out, more like a natural reaction than anything, but that doesn’t stop Liam from shaking his head and replying with, “You could never.”

In the end, Liam grabs his papers back, guarding them carefully as he takes them back to the other side of the room. Veronica misses the warmth she hadn’t known was there, but it’s time for her to go. She wonders how she’ll feel walking out of that door now that things have properly been taken care of.

Without a goodbye (knowing that Liam will probably leave her with one at the end of the day anyway), Veronica gets up from her chair and heads towards the door of the conference room. As she pulls it open, she wonders if anyone had walked past, heard their voices, and continued on their way like they hadn’t just slightly eavesdropped.

And as this is on her mind, Veronica barely manages to make it out of the room before something stops her from doing so.

Liam’s voice isn’t quiet, a little louder than normal considering he’s son the other side of the room now. However, within that volume, there’s a timidness there; especially when he calls after her again when she doesn’t realize it’s her name he’s sounding out.

When Veronica turns around, hand on the doorway, body standing in the threshold, Liam seems reserved. She wants to urge him to continue, not out of hastiness, but out of curiosity; so, she gives him a moment to look through the thick of his lashes and continue. “I don’t expect for you to change your mind, and I respect your attitude towards this before but-”

And even though Liam cuts himself off, and Veronica would very much like for him to spit whatever he needs to say out, she waits because not only is she patient, but she has a feeling where this is heading. In a parallel universe, Veronica thinks she might be the one to knock up the nerve to pursue Liam again, but that’s not where or who she is, and she can only be grateful that Liam seems to know exactly what he wants.

“If I said I’d like to take you out to dinner this Friday around eight, maybe, um.” Liam rarely gets flustered with his words, and Veronica - if she were any closer - might’ve gone up to pinch his cheeks in the gentlest way possible, let him know that throughout all of his uncertainty, Veronica’s right there along with him. “Is that something you think you might want to do?”

Now, Veronica really doesn’t mean to stall when it comes to answering, doesn’t like the way that Liam squirms under the silence like Veronica might actually say no. But the thing is, at least he’s ready for that possibility. Liam’s asking her what _she_ wants, and whatever she says will be just fine by him.

She doesn’t hold off for long, wonders if she could make a dramatic exit and play it out like one of those stupid romantic movies.

But as she thinks on it, she’s pretty positive that there shouldn’t be any reason to prolong what’s been bubbling between them because the more Veronica thinks about it, the more she kind of feels like an idiot for taking this long to actually notice that Liam’s felt the same way as her for quite some time now - full of reservations and his own fears.

Looking up towards the ceiling, Veronica casually shrugs before she slowly backs out of the room. “Make it seven, and you have yourself a date.”

And whether she throws in a wink or not, it’s not like she’ll remember it later because as soon she lets the door close behind her, the last thing Veronica hears is the sound of Liam’s laughter, a sweet sound of relief.

+

Despite Veronica’s adamant need to let Liam pick a restaurant because she figured all the places she knew wouldn’t be elegant enough for him, he threatened to take her out to a place where the price wouldn’t be listed on the menu. That, of course, shut Veronica up. Not because she couldn’t deal with it, or even afford that kind of luxury for a night, but she knew that Liam would end up insisting on paying the bill, and _that_ was the kind of guilt Veronica did not need on a date, much less a _first_ date.

Her main goal for the night was to actually make it through a nice evening where there wasn’t any anxiety. And sure, she could say that there might’ve been a little towards the beginning, especially considering the fact that she showed up a few minutes late (with Liam completely waving off her apologies with such an understanding smile), but now that they’re sitting down, plates full of food that they’re slowly making their way through because of the hindrance of their conversation, every bit of apprehension has flown out the window.

Veronica’s pretty sure she’s never been so at ease in her life.

Currently, Liam’s using his fork to push around some vegetables on his plate. He’s been doing that the past five minutes, taking small bites before swallowing it down with a swig of wine.

(Veronica, at one point, had poked fun of him for that, found it funny that a grown man still had trouble eating his vegetables. Might’ve been rude, but Veronica was surely satisfied with the bright blush that bloomed across the top of Liam’s cheeks).

“Two sisters, you said?” Veronica asks. The topic of family seems rather generalized, an easy discussion for the both of them. It’s better to know about the past before creating a future. “Must’ve been interesting.”

Liam gives her a pointed look, a little raise of his brow as if to indicate she’s really got no idea. “The youngest, too,” he adds. “Made for some very interesting situations.”

“Yeah?” Veronica says just after she swallows down another bite of food (a hamburger, classic but simple). She’s trying to be well mannered here, but not only is the food really good, she finds it hard not to encourage Liam to continue on. The sound of his voice is lovely, enthusiastic, even, that Veronica, of all people, finds she enjoys just listening to him speak.

The other man nods with ease, doesn’t look out of his element, but Liam seems to carry himself differently now. It’s much like the way he’d been at the charity event, except it’s just the two of them to make the most out of the night. “Their very own doll, I think.” And he chuckles quietly to himself at that remark. “Thought it was so cute, too. It took me a lot longer than I’d care to admit that I _didn’t_ have to listen to a word they said,” Liam says, shaking his head at the decisions a younger version of himself made. By the looks of it, despite him admitting his regret, there’s nothing but fondness in his voice. “Pretty sure red lipstick isn’t my color. Neither are dresses that go past my feet.”

And that only has Veronica grinning, makes her wonder what kind of mischief Liam got into when he was a kid. What kind of hobbies did he have back then? Or was he the adventurous type, always going outside, only to return with muddy clothes and a scrape or two?

But while Veronica expects Liam to continue on with his story, she soon notices the way he’s paused, eyes staring at his plate, and the sudden transition of happy to concerned is not one to avoid, and Veronica wonders what happened.

Thing is, it doesn’t take long after that to figure out the way Liam is carefully regarding her, the flicking of his eyes, the small hunch of his shoulders suggests he wishes he could go back and eat his words. And it’s then that Veronica realizes that maybe the content of what he said was something he thought she might take offense to. It’s not like they’ve had much time in the past two days to discuss anything regarding Veronica’s gender, but Liam _does_ know that she’s got nonexistent female genitalia, and maybe that ties in with him so blatantly writing off his time of dress-wearing because part of him is realizing the kind of situation Veronica _could’ve_ been in when she was younger. By him dismissing that aspect, of seemingly hating something that defines a lot of people in the world, Liam looks like he might’ve just dug himself into a hole.

So, instead of addressing it, Veronica knows the best way to handle this is by simply moving forward with their discussion. Part of her realizes that Liam might need help adjusting to how Veronica sees things (which he seems wholly set on as it is), and to make it a big deal won’t do anything but silt the process. “Then I guess it’s a good thing you stuck with your suits, then,” Veronica shrugs, eyeing the one he opted to wear. She’s debating on whether it’s the one he wore at the office earlier, but the color of his shirt underneath is different, and the fact that he went home and changed for her - put in that time and effort, at least - makes her stomach dance with butterflies. “Don’t think dresses would flatter you now.”

“Is that a challenge?” Liam suddenly asks, quickly snapped out of his cautiousness from before. Everything about him relaxes except for his face, where he clearly looks mock offended that Veronica would even suggest the very idea that he couldn’t possibly dawn such an article of clothing.

Veronica can’t contain her laughter after that, and while she’s usually careful to keep it under wraps, she can’t help it this time. Surely she looks a little manic, doing her best to muffle the sound with her fingers while her shoulders shake. She also notes the way that Liam looks both surprised and extremely delighted over the fact that he managed to make a joke. (Although, for a brief moment, Veronica wonders if his awe is because of the fact that he actually made _her_ laugh. That little shine in his eye would suggest so, but reading into things hasn’t always done her right, so she completely writes it off as nothing more than mirth).

With a nod, and trying her best to shake off the remains of her giggling, Veronica shrugs and reaches for her drink. “Depends,” she says before taking sip. “Only if you want it to be.”

The humor doesn’t wear off any time soon, but Veronica leaves it at that, doesn’t want to take things too far. So, instead of doing so, she returns to the original topic at hand. Liam’s only told her bits and pieces about his family, that they are still very much close, the fact that his mother nearly cries every time she visits because she’s just so _proud_ does an interesting number on Veronica.

“Well, if it counts for anything,” Veronica starts, “I’ve got three sisters, and even now, they’re a handful.” And of course, they really are. Veronica hasn’t been home for awhile, keeps in contact as much as possible, though. As far as he’s heard Safaa’s still at home, too busy being young with little rules, Waliyha’s busy with school, and Doniya’s cozy with some new guy Veronica would very much like to meet him, maybe intimidate him a little. And then there are his parents; however, they seem a little exasperated at the distance between their kids. Although, Veronica’s very much positive she hears that happy little tone in her mum’s voice that clearly tells her they’re _fine_. Which, technically just means they’re glad they’ve got the house to themselves most of the time, and while Veronica’s keen on not going too far with that thought, because no one actually likes thinking about it, she’s just glad everyone’s happy.

No family drama is much appreciated.

Liam looks positively charmed at that fact, though, like he’s a child who’s allowed to have some ice cream before a meal. To be fair, it’s probably been awhile since Liam’s actually spoke to someone about personal matters, being able to relate to someone that doesn’t have to do with business or is looking for a bed to sleep in and money to spend. “I bet they’re lovely,” Liam decides. “If they’re anything like you, they have to be.”

Veronica wastes no time grinning at the sentiment. She knows how all three would react if any of them were told that. She’s pretty certain they’re all troublemakers, and annoying little brats sometimes, but then again, Veronica’s dealt with their teasing and dramatic moods most of her life.

“Do they, um-” Liam bites his lip, the shuffling of veggies on his plate has stopped as well, most of them gone at this point. Which is a good thing, Veronica notes, but now his demeanor is reminiscent of before. Liam shifts in his seat, clearly has a question on his mind, and while Veronica’s sure his cautiousness might drive her completely insane one of these days, she softly nudges his foot under the table.

Liam’s not expecting it, and he does react accordingly, a little jump until he realizes that Veronica’s pinpointed him with a stare and raised eyebrows. “Like, they know?” He clears his throat, probably wishing he could run a hand through his hair to accommodate for the lack of etiquette with his question. “About you, I mean. It’s not-”

“I don’t think I could’ve kept it from them even if I wanted to,” Veronica admits, and she addresses it just like before, straightforward and simple, aiming to make it sound like it’s not a problem because it’s not. It’s the nature of curiosity, and the predicament she’s in has to make others wonder just how other people view her, too. Everyone has someone they’ve known all their life, and it’s more than just an assumption to think that opinions have been expressed. “We’re all close,” she continues, holding her own eating utensil in her hand, disregards her food to give Liam her full attention. “Can’t say it was easy, but they took it in stride.” Like Liam before her, Veronica speaks with great care, with as much kindness as she can muster up about her past. She’s had it easy, she realizes, far easier than other people like herself. While there are times of guilt, feeling like she got away with something illicit, her worry about being treated far worse always a constant in her mind in new situations, Veronica knows how fortunate her excursion has been thus far, and more than anything, she wouldn’t change it. Not in a heartbeat.

Liam looks grateful for that admission, like he’d been holding his breath for a more dramatic story, that maybe Veronica had been one of the ones ill-fated enough to deal with foolishness at home. He gives her a curt nod, like she doesn’t need to tell him any more than that if she doesn’t want to, and maybe one of these days, she will. It’s a heavy topic for her, and might be so for Liam, but tonight’s already as slack as it’s going to get. There’s soft music playing in the background; there are also couples around them enjoying their own dinner, and Veronica thinks it’s very reminiscent of her young mind always dreaming of coming this far. Maybe it’s also why she asks, “What made you chose this job? There’s a million and one different careers, and you end up here of all places.”

“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not,” Liam says with his lips turned upwards, knowing very well that what Veronica asked isn’t as such.

And as he pulls them back to reveal teeth, Veronica glances at him through the thick of her lashes. She avoided the glasses tonight, contacts a no-brainer (at least Eleanor practically forced them into her eyes because _you can’t go on a_ nice _date lookin’ like four eyes, darling; save that for work_ ), and while she can see perfectly clear with her glasses, somehow having the frames off of her face gives her a better, clearer view of the man before her. There’s no doubt Liam looks business savvy, suit the perfect cut for his frame, hair slicked back nicely. But what’s different about him tonight is fact that Veronica can tell he’s got a bit more scruff on his face, outlining his jaw. Liam looks a lot more sophisticated, slightly older, too, but it’s not bad. He looks wiser, if that makes any sense, and Veronica’s sure it doesn’t, but it suits him nonetheless.

“Lots of different reasons, though,” Liam goes on to say. “Wasn’t very good at school, and I wouldn’t be surprised if most of my teachers thought I was an idiot.” And while there’s a brief pause there, enough for Veronica to want to tell him off for being so down on himself, Liam must sense her protest and decides not to leave any room for her to actually say as much. “But I understood people, knew how to approach them and talk to them. I wasn’t very good at math, but I understood statistics, at least, knew what order was, and how to achieve anything that needed to be done.”

The thing about Liam right now is the fact that there’s not a lick of pride to be shown when he speaks of his strengths. It’s not that he’s purposefully being humble about it, rather Liam’s just accepted the things that come easy to him, found a little place that clicked when nothing else did. Veronica had always understood English, knew the ins and outs of good writing, how it’s placed and why, and while she thinks highly of herself on that subject, she uses it as a comparison. To find any amount of strength in one place where it feels like everyone else is succeeding is the best thing to do for the self-esteem. In school, Harry was best with music; Marcel had a knack for _everything_ , and Eleanor knew fashion, taking art classes to strengthen her ability to identify and create color.

“And then it became useful,” Veronica chimes in.

In response, Liam nods in agreement. “Yeah, figured I’d end up a factory worker like my dad, and even though I went to school for business for that reason, it didn’t really pan out. Got an internship to test out different areas of company’s, dabbled in whatever I could find-”

“Until you ended up here.” She’s impressed, and who wouldn’t be? From the sound of it, it looked like Liam hadn’t a goal for his future, just wanted to follow in the footsteps of someone he admired because that’s all he knew. However, life has a funny way of opening doors at the most inopportune times, and if anything, Veronica’s just glad he’s found his place.

Liam tips his glass to Veronica’s comment before taking a drink, and when he sets it down, his tongue vaguely darts across his lips, licking away the taste of any wine that might’ve lingered. “And yourself?”

Veronica sighs, not that she doesn’t want to answer and not because it’s a burden to do so either, but she’s had this conversation before with a few people, including Harry, and they’ve all wondered when she’s going to find a _real_ job. Thing is, someone has to do it, and because Veronica knows damn well she’s good at being a secretary, there’s really no reason for her to leave. The money is good; she knows a few people. It’s comfortable, is what it is, and it’d be absurd to go changing something that doesn’t actually need to be fixed.

“Thought art was my calling, or maybe becoming a teacher,” Veronica replies, and while she does so, she looks away from Liam and out across the restaurant. She doesn’t stop on any particular table, just sweeps the room out of curiosity and to alleviate some of her uneasiness about what she does. It’s not as glamorous as Liam’s, nor is it as well paying, but it’s hers. Besides, at least she knows she’s not going to be judged for it. Liam knows exactly who she is and what she does, and that’s literally two checks off of a conversation list when it comes to dating new people. “But I’m better at answering calls and running halfway across town if the boss needs me too.” She grins, hope Liam’s buying her playfulness. “Besides,” she continues, “a lot of smaller businesses can be picky about who they hire.” It’s still a tough thing to admit, but it doesn’t bother her as much now as it did when Veronica needed to work somewhere outside of her small hometown. Where she’s at now is a lot bigger, more people, less wiggle room to screw things up without everyone noticing. “It’s not that other places turned me away, really, but Marcel landed his marketing job earlier than most people in his year, and when he offered to help me out, I took the chance. Might’ve been a little too passive on my part.” She leans back in her seat then and tilts her head up a little higher. "Could've chosen anything in the world, but what I was doing here fit well for me, so I stayed."

"And now?" Liam asks. "You've still got plenty of time. Nothing is forever."

To which Veronica agrees with. However, while it sounds like she settled (and maybe in a way, she did), it actually turned into something more than that. Sure, keeping inventory on supplies isn't all the exciting, but at least she's built up a resume to prove to people she's worth more and then some. She's essential; even Liam had said so himself. "Maybe," she says, twisting her face up in thought. "But I'm good for now."

And it's in the way that Liam looks completely satisfied with that answer that makes tonight worth it. Veronica could say the food was excellent or that Liam was good company. Or she could go off to include how after they finished their meal, Liam pulled her away from the table and over to the small area made for dancing. There'd already been a few couples there, what with the musicians keeping a steady rhythm of different songs, those that included slow ones, too.

He'd taken her hand in his, careful that he didn't rush her as she walked. Liam's hand remained against the lower part of her back, nearest her hip until he spun her around to face him.

And even in that moment where he continued to charm her, complimented Veronica's attire (simple dress pants with a sheer creme colored topped, styled with a ribbon tied delicately around her neck, hair pulled back into a strong braid that showed off the harsh angle of her jaw, which helped compliment the minimal makeup that fanned over the curve of cheekbones; Veronica had even gone out of her way just to make sure Liam knew how handsome he was too because tonight wasn't just about her either), it still did not pale in comparison to when Liam simply let things be as they were during their conversations. He'd accepted her words of the night as truth without the hassle of more questions that demanded answers.

And it was ultimately then that Veronica really knew she was in safe hands because if her choices were respected and her decisions understood without questions or belittlement, then she'd still be free to do the same in a relationship of two. It's not like Veronica had always set out for independence, but sometimes she thinks that's what she craves.

Liam's already been in the habit of respecting her, even when Veronica thought he wouldn't, and that says more to her than a lot of other silly sentiments.

They don't stay long after that. Liam's kind enough to walk Veronica to her car, kisses her cheek goodnight and helps her into the vehicle before he sets off for his own ride. Veronica watches him in her rear view mirror as the distance between them grows. It's not long after that, when Liam's faded from sight, that all Veronica is left with is her reflection staring back at her.

She notices the sparkle in her eyes first; then she quickly dismisses it. And if Veronica notices the glow to her skin next, where she'd flushed just after Liam's lips broke away from her skin, she waves it off, too.

However, what Veronica cannot shake off so easily is the fact that her mouth is set into a smile, lips painted a nice shade of cherrywood red. She tries to though; she really does, but Veronica eventually gives up and settles for starting her car and heading home.

Surely she'll be able to rest easy tonight. Maybe. Eleanor seemed pretty set on hearing details as soon as she got back.

Which is fine, really, because replaying details is the only way to re-experience events, and this is one of them that Veronica doesn't ever want to forget.

++

_It’s the middle of the year, when Zayn’s eighteen, when he discovers that Harry has feelings for him. It doesn’t happen in a grand way like kissing or Harry revealing his emotions, putting himself on display. All of it is told through his touches, through his smiles, through his helping hands._

_Harry is Zayn’s best friend, and he’s the first he relies on during his transition, the first he’d told about liking boys, and the first he confided in that he liked dresses just as much as he liked track pants and boxers._

_And Zayn is sorry for what he’s done. He hadn’t meant to, not on purpose, at least. And there’s an underlying bit of guilt because around this time, Harry should be out chasing other people, not someone who’s trying to discover himself._

_The best thing he’s got to offer Harry is the promise of friendship til’ the day they die, and marriage if nothing happens when they hit thirty-three years old._

_It’s a safe bet, but Zayn knows that if there’s anyone in the world that would treat him properly, it’d be Harry._

_The look in Harry’s eyes scream for his best friend to love him back, and all Zayn can do is smile and hope that he finds better than Zayn knows he could ever give._

++

“Your eyes are going to pop out of your head if you keep staring hard enough.”

Veronica startles, turning her head to her left only find Eleanor standing right beside her. She’s leaning up against the threshold of the door, just like Veronica, halfway between the living room and the kitchen.

“Shut up,” Veronica whispers under her breath. She’d nudge Eleanor if she didn’t have her arms crossed, too tight to let go because now _is_ the time to be antsy.

“What do you think they’re going to do, huh?” Eleanor starts again.

Although, by now Veronica has looked away; surely her friend’s got her eyebrow crooked, posture a little too lax and uncaring for her taste. Eleanor always was the one to be nonchalant in grand situations. It never meant that she didn’t care; she just knew when something was big enough to care enough about. She’d always told Veronica there was a difference, waste your time and emotions on things that matter most because afterwards, there’d only be exhaustion. What’s the point in expending those responses early?

Veronica shrugs, and part of her knows that Eleanor will be right. She could agree with her friend right now, tell her she’s right before she even gets another word in, but yeah, Eleanor’s not like that, and so Veronica decides to save her breath until the brunette is finished saying what she needs to.

“Sure, they’ll rib him, and maybe tell him some embarrassing stories about you,” she continues. “But you know what, V?” Eleanor pokes her with her socked foot, right against her ankle just to gain her attention. “You’ve looked hard enough, and what do you see?”

Whether it’s rhetorical or not, Veronica doesn’t know until Eleanor pokes her again. That action, in itself, is a request, and so Veronica quickly sweeps her vision across the room only to find her friends. They’re all sprawled out across the couch, Louis, Leeroy, Niall, Marcel, and Harry, and then there’s Liam.

He’s sitting with them, leaned back into the cushions while focused on the tv. There’s a game on, one that all of them had been eager to watch, and Veronica knew it’d be the sensible thing to invite Liam over - for the first time, too - to her flat, introduce her boyfriend to the people she called family and hopefully have them all appreciate Liam as much as Veronica did.

So, yes, that decision had come with a bit of stress, and that’d only been because of the fact that while Liam’s met the twins (knowing Marcel right off the bat, and instantly recognizing Harry from the charity), it meant that he’d be here in her _home_ , where she lived amongst people she cared about. That also meant a recipe for some trouble if they didn’t like him, and Veronica craved approval. Surely Liam did too, but as far as Veronica’s aware, he hasn’t expressed as much just yet.

Eleanor’s point suddenly makes sense, why she asked Veronica to really take a good look at everyone here. It’s simply because while Liam’s hanging out with them, he fits in perfectly. He’s not fully smiling, but he’s not frowning, looks completely at ease, and maybe Veronica had only been searching for something, too eager to give Liam the option to leave in case he felt stuck or even forced to meet the people in Veronica’s life.

“He looks like he’s having a good time,” Veronica admits. She can’t lie to Eleanor; the brunette would only stare at her so long until she gave in and took back her words knowing they were only a fabrication.

“Exactly,” Eleanor says with just a small amount of pride, as if being right is all she ever needs to be. “So, either you can stand here for the rest of the night, or you can actually go in there and enjoy this. Honestly,” and this time, Eleanor rests her hand on Veronica’s shoulder, pulling her around to face her instead of the living room, “you’ve nothing to worry about.”

And it’s the truth, Veronica knows. It’s simple, straight to the point, but somehow, that doesn’t settle her stomach just yet. It’s not the answer she’d been looking for, and even being here and gnawing on the inside of her cheek hadn’t helped her come to a conclusion about why she’s been so apprehensive all night.

Fortunately for her, no one except Eleanor’s taken noticed, and really, Veronica’s grateful for that.

“What is it?”

Veronica sucks in her breath before turning on her heel, back into the kitchen so that the conversation can continue without prying ears. She knows it wouldn’t be too long before someone spotted them in the doorway, during a commercial or bathroom break, only to find Veronica and Eleanor having a discussion she wanted none of them to know about.

“I don’t know,” Veronica answers. Which, by all means, is the truth, but something’s nagging at her, and when she tries to pinpoint it, she can’t. Most of her attention had been focused on everyone’s opinion of Liam, if him coming over was an intrusion and unwelcome, or if they’d be intimidated by him, whether they’d generally _like_ him as opposed to just putting up with him for Veronica’s sake.

And so as she stands there, tapping her foot and watching as Eleanor watches her, Veronica eventually thinks she might know what’s going on. “Harry,” she simply states. And after that, it’s like it all clicks because no, Veronica hadn’t been worried about Marcel liking Liam. That was a no brainer. If they didn’t click, then surely Marcel wouldn’t be working beside the man five days out of the week. Louis was easy to please, a little uppity at times when it comes to new arrivals, but mostly it involved mild intimidation and then cracking a joke the next second.

Then there’s Niall, who simply likes everyone, and maybe in Veronica’s mind she’d worried so much that she thought even he wouldn’t like Liam. And now that she thinks on that, it’s truly an absurd notion because it’s not like Niall’s stupid and can’t tell when someone’s not all that great. He definitely works with the benefit of the doubt before he ever makes any kind of assumption.

But Harry? Harry’s pretty much loved Veronica since they were teens, and that kind of thing doesn’t just fade easily. It’s explained some of his jealousy towards Liam all those weeks ago, proved why he spends his nights working at a bar so he’s introduced to people (mainly women) every night.

But now that Veronica’s not available, now that Harry can visibly see that Veronica is with someone, that’s making her overthink things. It’s not like she believes Harry would do anything. He’s not that kind of man, but Veronica knows she’s already caused him enough pain via not returning his affections and by them remaining friends despite her offering that they part ways many moons ago in order to save him from any discomfort their friendship would bring.

Obviously, Harry’s still in her life now; Veronica gave them a way out, to stop being friends, it only being a brief conversation between the two that only lasted a total of five minutes before Harry flat out told her no. His promises that generally consisted of not letting anything come between their friendship had, so far, proven true, but it’s been awhile since Veronica’s been with anyone, and she’s conscious of the fact that as much as her relationships don’t involve Harry, they do indirectly.

She could tell him to fuck off, but Veronica knows with everything she has in her that that’s never something she’d be able to do.

“What about Harry?” Eleanor asks.

And it should be simple. Eleanor should know exactly what Veronica’s talking about just by understanding her worry over Liam and by saying Harry’s name, all practically in the same sentence.

“He’s not said anything, and I doubt he will tonight,” Veronica answers, “or even after Liam leaves, but I’m afraid of what it might do it him, me being with Liam and everything.”

Eleanor waves her off, taking a seat on top of the kitchen counter to which Veronica frowns at but makes no comment about it otherwise. “Look, I know there’s always been this _thing_ between the two of you,” and then she holds up a finger when she sees Veronica try to speak, shaking her head like she’s going to talk over her regardless, “but as much as you want to fault yourself for it, you can’t. Harry’s to blame, too, and it’s a whole thing I don’t want to get into.”

“Then what’s your point?” Veronica manages to get in.

“My _point_ ,” the brunette emphasizes, “is that you don’t need to underestimate him. He’s known for a long time how this was going to end.”

At that moment, Veronica wonders about all the conversations Eleanor’s had with Harry, if they’ve had any. She’s not trying to be nosy, really, but obviously it’s better that they don’t tell each other everything. Especially when it comes to this. It’s not that Veronica’s tried to ignore Harry and the part of himself that has feelings for her, but a lot of the time it’s easier not talking about it. She can’t forget that it exists, but it’s like an unspoken thing between them, that that area of discussion is off limits. The last time they came remotely close to it had been the drive to the charity, and even then, they hadn’t hit the nail on the head.

“He’s not an idiot either, and he knew that sooner or later, this point in time would come.”

Veronica doesn’t say anything else. Trying to would only have Eleanor at her again, and truly, she’s said everything that’s important. So, Veronica takes her friend’s word, decides to stop making nothing into something. That starts by her taking initiative and going to grab a few beers to take back to the boys. Whether they’ve finished off the ones they had before, she doesn’t know, but at least these will be cold, and it’ll make it look like Eleanor and her were busy.

As she pulls them out of the fridge, sets them on the counter and opens each of them individually, mind finally content to enjoy the rest of her evening, Eleanor reels her back to square one when she suddenly mutters, “I think he’s found someone actually.”

It takes a moment to process, and Veronica nearly drops the bottle she has in her hand. Thankfully, she doesn’t, otherwise the kitchen would be covered in glass, and the thought of that alone isn’t pleasant. “What?” she asks, staring Eleanor down.

The brunette looks none too bothered except for where she bites at her lip, looking up towards the ceiling like she’s actually thinking about whether or not she actually just said what she said. There might be the slightest hint of regret there, and it’s not on Veronica’s behalf, but more for Harry’s.

“Just what I said.” Eleanor shrugs and jumps off the counter, reaching out for some of the beer bottles. “Let me help.”

But Veronica smacks her wrist before she can touch any of them, and Eleanor is left with a pout. “You can’t just say shit like that and move on. You know something, now talk.”

So, Eleanor sighs like this is some kind of burden, but she’s not fooling anyone because there’s a little glint in her eye that proves she’s very much eager to say anything at all. “He hasn’t said anything to me, at least,” she provides. “But from what Marcel’s told me _and_ from a couple of phone calls, he’s gettin’ real cozy with someone. Don’t think it’s serious yet but-”

“And he didn’t tell me this?” Veronica wonders. “Why wouldn’t he tell me about it?”

Eleanor gives her friend a look, one where she’s wondering why in the world she’s even asking something that. “It’s not a secret, V. Just an omission.”

“Which is pretty much the same thing,” she counters.

“It’s not,” Eleanor disagrees, and then she wrinkles her nose. “Okay, maybe in _some_ cases.” And then finally she reaches out for the beer, going slow in case Veronica tries to stop her again. Veronica doesn’t, but she does feel like she’s going to be left with a headache after this. “He probably hasn’t said anything because he wants to make sure he’s doing something on his own terms, figure all of this out by himself.”

“Would’ve given him space,” Veronica mutters, but she isn’t upset, not really. She’s just a little bit in awe, she thinks, of the fact that Harry’s doing something different than playing the part of a bar-tending drunk.

“Really, though, I think it’s about finding out how to move on from you,” the brunette adds. “He’s gotta figure it out at some point, and the only way to do it is without you there.”

Which makes it seem like Harry wants her out of his life, but no, that’s not the case. Veronica gets what Eleanor’s trying to say, that Harry’s going to have to work on himself and his feelings all on his own because they’re his. And even if Veronica is the cause of most of his heartache, by finally reaching the unavailable status, maybe that’s what’s given Harry the kick he’s needed after all this time.

There’s also the question of why he’s doing it after so many years, why not before when Veronica had dated other people? Those were some clear signs that she wasn’t available then, but the longer Veronica thinks about that, she figures this is Harry’s way of telling her he approves, that despite him frowning at the idea of Liam being in her life (even when she believed that wasn’t a possibility at the time), she’s made a good choice, a smart one.

Maybe she should be more surprised at the fact that Harry hasn’t actually bragged about being right, about giving her his small amount of advice in order to actually make things right for herself.

“Also,” Eleanor adds, walking away from Veronica but turning on her heel at the very last second, “it might have to do with the fact that he’s worried over the same stuff you were tonight.” She gives Veronica a moment to conjure up her worries again, placing those upon Harry so she gets the gist of where Eleanor’s going with this. “It’s been a long time since he’s found someone worth it, and I think it’s only proper to worry about what your best friend might think when you bring someone new home.”

Veronica shakes her head, grabs the rest of the alcohol before finding her place right next to Eleanor. “You just told me _not_ to worry,” Veronica scolds. They’re just at the door now, a clear view of everyone on the couch who all still look just as interested in the game as they were when Veronica was watching them beforehand.

However, Eleanor shrugs quite dramatically before elbowing Veronica to gain her attention. She receives a frown from her best friend and quite the kick to the foot, but Eleanor isn’t phased; especially when she says, “Funny that, though. You’ve already got your answer.” And when she points ahead of her, casually enough not to draw attention to them, Veronica knows she’s wanting her to glance at Harry specifically.

She does, and while Harry hasn’t given her any kind of verbal approval, she sees it in the way he speaks to Liam, with just as much enthusiasm and respect that Veronica hopes she can give to the person he decides to be with.

Eleanor leaves her standing there by herself with her thoughts after that, but Veronica doesn’t waste her time on them a moment longer, not when Eleanor had been correct about pretty much everything.

Harry’s actions speak louder than words, and right now, she needs to trust them.

+

Liam’s flat is probably the nicest thing Veronica’s ever seen in her life. It’s not the first time she’s been over here, but it is the first time Liam’s asked her to come over for dinner and stay the night afterwards. There’d been no hesitation on her end at that request, fully ready to actually see a potential domestic side of Liam. It also brought along the opportunity for them to spend some time together without the interruption of work or Liam having to leave for his business trips.

Then there’s also the aspect of what tonight might actually mean for the both of them, too. It’s not like Veronica flat out asked Liam if he wanted sex, but she also realizes it’s kind of the last thing they need to confront and resolve, something she’s not exactly sure how to approach, if she’s honest.

Even then, just because Liam had asked her to stay, doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen, and Veronica knows she has a choice on the matter, but she’s more concerned with Liam taking things slow, his admittance of having never been with anyone with a cock before hadn’t been anything shocking to Veronica. More than anything, it made her appreciate him all the more, not because she’d be his first or anything like that, but because part of Liam was trusting her with his inexperience, branching out of his world of vaginas.

Veronica really doesn’t mean to be tacky, but all of it’s the truth.

However, those thoughts have also put her at ease in the most unflattering way. With Liam possibly nervous about sleeping with her, Veronica’s timid about the same exact thing because getting naked isn’t the easiest thing in the world, especially if it’s with someone new, and it’s for the very first time. Some people are naturally confident, and it’s not like Veronica hates the way she looks because it’s taken a long time for her feel at home in her body, but she’s been in that situation before, the lingering want in someone’s eye that only used her to get themselves off.

And again, she’s not trying to say that Liam’s like that, but it’s one of those paranoid fears that only lingers and won’t go away until there’s proof that it will never be like that again.

For now, though, Liam’s busy making sure the noodles won’t end up overcooked. They decided on spaghetti for the night, something they could make themselves rather than playing it easy with takeout food. Veronica’s busy with the cake right now; it’s already finished baking and cooled. She’s spreading the icing (chocolate because she insisted it’s the best), trying to be as neat as she can with it despite the fact that they’ll more than likely cut into it later.

It seems her efforts are for naught, though, when a finger comes into her view, scooping some of the frosting off of the cake. Veronica frowns and watches as Liam licks it away, a smirk on his face. She might think he’d been teasing something else if it weren’t for the way he’s messy with his actions. “It’s really good,” he comments, tongue darting out from behind his lips to lick some of the frosting off the corner of his mouth.

Veronica leans most of her weight onto the right side of her body and looks at him like he totally shouldn’t’ve done that. “It’s store bought,” she counters. And it is because Veronica’s not very good at cooking, and there’s no way she would’ve been able to pull this off without someone else helping her out.

“Still, it tastes good.” Liam then moves in again, only this time he goes for the container of icing rather than the cake.

“Don’t-” Veronica says just before she’s silenced when Liam taps her nose. There’s frosting left behind; she can smell it very clearly, and then there’s Liam taking a step back, laughing while he does so. “Are you serious?” she squeaks. Wiggling her nose, Veronica settles for wiping it off before glaring at Liam, slowly grabbing the jar of icing and dipping into it.

“No, don’t,” Liam says once he realizes what she might do.

Veronica snorts and steps around the counter. “You started it, you asshole.” And before Liam even has a chance to make it out of the kitchen, Veronica’s running her finger down the side of his cheek until there’s a line of frosting there.

She’s smug when she looks him in the eye, dares Liam to do something about it, and while she’s prepared for him to come after her with more frosting, she doesn’t expect him to nearly tackle her, fingers finding her sides and tickling her half to death.

“ _Leeyum_ ,” she shrieks because he’s got a good hold of her, and there’s no way he’s letting go. Most of the frosting ends up on Veronica, in her hair and across her cheek once Liam’s attacked her face with kisses.

“Serves you right,” he mutters with a laugh right after. His hands find their place on her hips, steading her while she manages to wipe off any excess frosting. It’s difficult to be successful at that given she can’t see herself, but Liam reaches around to grab a napkin to help.

“No more food wars,” she says as Liam continues to clean her off. “Don’t wanna mess up the kitchen any more than we already have.” And to be honest, she’s quite proud of the fact that they haven’t made a giant mess in here. The kitchen is pretty much stainless steal, a very cozy pattern of black and white as the theme. It looks very futuristic, but Veronica hasn’t said as much because she’s only saying that because hers back home is completely dated.

“Oh?” Liam asks, raising his brows. “Not worried about yourself, then.” For a moment, Liam steps away to throw away the napkin, also going over to the stove to check on the pasta while he’s at it.

“Figured you’d have a shower or something,” Veronica comments, and she doesn’t really realize the way that it sounds until after she’s said it. Sure, Liam’s definitely got a shower. Most homes do, but to assume like that-

“Of course,” Liam agrees. He doesn’t look away from stirring, just shrugs and continues with, “Don’t have to ask me for my permission.”

Veronica goes back to her task of frosting, fixing up what Liam ruined and adding some to the corners she hadn’t gotten to yet. “Does that mean you’d join me?” she asks rather absentmindedly, and it’d been quite a thought, just something she’d suggest, get the idea out there so she’s got a steady idea of where Liam’s mind is at with this whole _we’re a couple, and sometimes they sleep together_ type of business.

She doesn’t look up from what she’s doing, not until the room’s entirely silent for way too long. So, when Veronica does, she finds that Liam’s back looks a little tense, and maybe this wasn’t the proper time to suggest something like that. Despite them being together just under six months, they’ve not done more than have wandering hands. And part of Veronica’s been perfectly willing to accept that for now; it makes it to where she’s a lot more confident in what her and Liam have, but that doesn’t mean it’s the same way for Liam.

Veronica’s about to take matters into her own hands, completely dismiss her previous question so they can move on when Liam carefully turns to her. “Is that something that’s been on your mind?”

Under his gaze, Veronica flushes and wishes she wasn’t his main focus. But, as it is, she is, and therefore she’s going to have to unwind herself from what she originally started. So, she keeps on moving her hand, carefully topping the icing off, all smooth and perfect to her liking before she subtly glances back towards Liam. “Maybe,” she says carefully. “Though I think it’s best to have dinner before dessert, right?”

Right after, Veronica smiles sweetly as she watches Liam’s face changes from smug to completely impressed. “Okay,” he agrees. “We don’t have to, but it’s an option.”

He may not say it directly, but Veronica perfectly understands, has found her answer in regards to tonight. She figures most times sex is meant to be spur of the moment, a kiss on the couch before things get hot and heavy, or maybe one of them would tease the other before they finally fell into bed.

That scenario is kind of like now, but they’re adults and have the ability to be as patient as they want. Besides, while they might joke, Veronica knows it’ll be anything but that.

Deciding the cake looks good as it is, Veronica licks off any icing from her fingers before joining Liam. “Think it’s done,” he guesses, and Veronica shrugs in return because all she knows is that noodles aren’t meant to be chewy, and if they are, then they’ll deal with it.

The rest of their evening follows as such, with Liam straining the pasta, adding the sauce and anything else to their plates as necessary before they find themselves in the living room, some movie on tv, wine in their hands. And instead of paying attention to the flashing colors and scenes that belong to such a film, it bears no meaning on being able to sit comfortably on Liam’s leather couch, curled up and watching as he talks with such animation, gestures and eyes alight.

Veronica, in the moment, wonders how often people have seen Liam like this, if his previous relationships (that he had indeed confirmed left him feeling emptier than ever while _in_ them) allowed for his enthusiasm. There is no business talk, all of it left at the office, and it’s probably not too far of a stretch to think that maybe Liam’s thought about her previous’, too.

There haven’t been many boundaries placed yet, haven’t talked them all out like they probably ought to, but if there’s a few things Veronica’s absolutely sure of. The first is the fact that while Liam may not have the hand of a cook, he makes a mean pasta, and secondly, Veronica would do anything just to have Liam speak wildly and carefree.

His voice carries throughout the living room, only a lamp highlighting their features, and if at some point Veronica chimes in with her own words, or even her light laughter, all it does is help the mood of the room.

Veronica’s pretty okay with saying that _this_ is the most comfortable she’s ever been in her life, and she might even go so far as to say it’s one of the best. None of it would be an exaggeration, and the good thing about it? It’s the fact that Veronica knows it’s Liams, too.

++

_He’s at the end of his first year taking hormones, nearly twenty, when Zayn’s father finds him standing on the balcony overlooking the front of the house. He’d been tempted to smoke but had made the commitment to quit in case it interrupted anything to do with his medicine._

_“Something’s troubling you.”_

_It’s not a question, just a statement that is definitely correct. And the thing is, Zayn doesn’t really know what it is that’s bothering him. There’s been something lazily crawling underneath his skin, and he can’t pinpoint just what it is._

_“Yeah, think so,” Zayn replies. He manages to glance over to his father, only to find that he’s taken a seat on one of the chairs they keep out here._

_“I can wait.”_

_And Zayn knows exactly what that means. It makes him smile, his father just as stubborn as he._

_Maybe that’s where his thoughts lie; underneath it all, Zayn’s a lot like his father than he would’ve ever imagined, and that’s not said in disappointment. It’s only natural, Zayn thinks, to want to emulate those important figures in life, and so, maybe that’s the exact confliction Zayn finds himself in trouble with._

_Zayn turns so that his hip is resting against the wood of the railing. There are two views for him now so that he’s not just talking to the space in front of the house, but to his father, too. “I’m still your son,” he says, biting his tongue as soon as that’s slipped out of his mouth._

_His eyes burn with unshed tears, and it’s already dark out so Zayn knows that if anything, his eyes just look shiny because of the reflection of the moonlight._

_“What makes you say that?” Yaser asks, tone completely neutral._

_Zayn can make out the thick of his father’s eyebrow, curved and pulled up in great interest. “Because I-“_

_“Zayn.”_

_“I look confusing, I know,” he blurts out. “I feel like there should be more that mum and you have to say instead of dancing around the subject.” Zayn closes his eyes next, knowing full well that he’s just doing the same- not trusting himself with the right words to have a decent conversation with his father._

_But it’s fine, or so it seems, when Yaser sits back in his seat and waits until Zayn is looking at him before speaking. “Nothing about you makes me think any less of you.”_

_And that should be the end of it, all that Zayn is looking for, but it’s not. “And the fact that I look like a girl now?”_

_“Are you happy?”_

_The question takes Zayn by surprise. It’s short, so incredibly simple, but it’s the last thing he expected to hear from his father. So, Zayn swallows, avoids the gaze of the other person out here with him and looks back out at the yard, and the street._

_He’s never been asked that before. Even with Harry’s encouragement, and Eleanor’s enthusiasm, no one’s asked him that. Happy. It seems like a foreign word, a weird feeling, and the longer Zayn takes to think on it - grateful that his baba isn’t rushing him - the more the warmness inside him coils around his heart, bloats his belly with butterflies. “Yeah,” he admits quietly. And then when he turns to his father again, just in case the older man hadn’t heard, he repeats himself. “Yeah, I am.”_

_“Then isn’t that what matters most?”_

_Zayn abruptly shakes his head, that overwhelming feeling like he wants to cry taking over, makes his lips wobble and eyes burn even more. “Don’t give me that. Don’t.”_

_He breathes in a shaky breath, and the next thing he knows, there are arms encircling his being. Zayn clings to his father like a child, quietly cries into his shoulder and holds on tightly. “M’happy, baba, but I have to know you are, too.” And curse him, he never meant to get like this, so vulnerable and needy, but his father is a steady figure, doesn’t shame him for not being strong in the moment, just hugs Zayn tighter._

_“There’s never been a moment in my life where I’ve hated you, Zayn. Disappointed, maybe, in some of your decisions, but damn it if you think I’d love you any less.”_

_Zayn’s not too full of pride to admit to himself that that’s all he’s ever needed to hear. And the next words that ring out don’t stun him, but they do make him grateful, puts a new perspective on how he views himself, how his family views him, too._

_“I love you, Zayn.”_

_It’s amazing how very few words can dismantle any and all insecurities at once._

++

Veronica’s not normally a klutz, but when she is, it’s never anything she can just shove under the rug and pretend never happened.

“I’m really sorry,” Veronica says as she helps Liam unbutton his shirt. She feels awful about spilling the wine, and really, out of _all_ the things that could’ve happened, it had to result in one that ended up with the removal of clothes.

“It’s really not a big deal,” Liam responds, a bit of humor in his voice. “You just gave it a bit of color; that’s all.”

Veronica tries to keep her lips from pulling back into a smile. She’s trying to be serious about this because lord knows the shirt costs more than she’s willing to admit. “It’s tie-dye now, isn’t it?” And it’s hard not to snort at her own joke, but she can tell that Liam thinks it’s amusing, so she’ll lighten up about it. Taking his word for what it is, is going to be one of Veronica’s goals from here on out.

Liam’s nearly out of his shirt, just a button or two to go when Veronica groans and drops her head to her chest. When she pulls herself back together, Liam’s looking at her funny until she opens the palm of her hand to reveal a button. “I’m just gonna, you know, not touch any of your stuff.”

“Really?” Liam takes it out of her hand before pulling off his shirt completely. He pads over to the bathroom, throwing the article of clothing on the floor in such a careless manner that makes Veronica frown. “Thought this was the plan?” Stepping through the threshold of the door, Liam turns just enough to see Veronica look at him with pretty hazel eyes.

It’s only fair he’s being playful, doing it so that Veronica knows he really doesn’t care about the state of his shirt. It’s more of a coincidence than anything, the fact that Liam’s down to nothing but pants and probably does really need a shower now that the wine has had time to dry. Veronica imagines that it’s sticky by now, so she quickly narrows her eyes and tilts her head just a bit. “Oh, so is that thing we’re still doing?”

“Well,” Liam shrugs. “ _I_ will be, but you can join me if you'd like.” And then Liam’s leaving her there in his bedroom, completely dressed while he disappears from her sight. Veronica hears the shower turn on not too long after that, and part of her is really wondering what the fuck she’s still standing here for.

Of course, it’s all a big coincidence, her being clumsy, and it leading to a joking _suggestion_. Veronica feels the need to shake her fist at the sky, wonders who’s having a laugh up there at her misfortune. (Even then, it’s probably not best to categorize it as that, a misfortune, because literally, a door has been opened in the least embarrassing way possible).

And it’s not like the universe is trying to tell her something anyway. Nah.

Veronica slowly makes her way towards the bathroom, and at first, she’s in awe of how spacious it is because like the kitchen, it’s one of the nicest rooms she’s ever seen.

Just a few minutes prior, she had the opportunity to look at Liam’s room, too, four white walls with the simplest decorations. Grays, along with white, and shades of black dotted the comforter and the few pieces of furniture. There might’ve been some expense spared, or even a designer had come in at one point, but everything matched Liam perfectly. His personality reflected differently sometimes, colors of various shades, but everything else fit into those crevices that not a lot of people got to see.

The tile is cold beneath her bare feet, and the shower is on the other side of the room. A large part of it's paneling is glass; however, some of it’s frosted over with steam now. Veronica can only make out Liam’s figure so much, the outline of his frame, the way he moves his hand across his skin, scrubs away the leftover feeling of wine.

And maybe she’s a little nervous. Liam hadn’t seemed too bothered by this grand idea to get naked in front of one another via the shower. Although, Veronica thinks it might actually be better this way. There’s not the awkwardness of standing in front of one another, slowly slipping out of clothes. That’s more torture than it is pleasure, and doing it like this, everything’s already unveiled.

Whether Liam knows she’s in here or not, he doesn’t let on. Maybe that has to do with the fact that he’s giving her space rather than not knowing at all. But it helps, is the thing. Veronica takes her eyes off of Liam to stand in front of the counter with a large mirror that sits in front of two sinks, taking up a large portion of the wall.

The first thing she does is remove her glasses, carefully folds them up and sets them down before removing her t-shirt. She’d opted for easy clothing today, and while she hadn’t been wary that she might actually need spares come tomorrow, right now that’s a complete afterthought.

Veronica then shimmies out of her jeans, and as quick as she was about the top layers of her clothes, now she finds it a little more difficult to continue on the path to remove the rest. Liam will be done soon, and surely he won’t wait around for her. Wrinkled skin doesn’t really feel all that nice.

“You okay?”

She jumps then, startled by Liam’s voice, deep and soft at the same time. Veronica glances at him through the mirror, finds that Liam’s got the door of the shower cracked open enough to see her.

“Yeah,” she lies, smiles gently, and then reaches around to the back of her bra. “Pesky clip; it won’t come undone.” Which that’s not totally a lie, but it’s the only thing she knows to say, can’t find it in herself to be completely honest with Liam about the sudden loss of breath she feels. That’ll only have him escort her out of the bathroom with a change of clothes, telling her not to worry about _any_ of this because pushing herself isn’t ever going to be okay with him.

But deep down, Veronica _does_. She wants this, but she’s having a hard time letting herself go for it.

“Thought you’d be an expert.” Liam’s more amused, and Veronica’s grateful that he isn’t pointing out her faults for being as cautious as she is. Whether he realizes what she’s going through, that has yet to be determined, but he’s doing a damn good job of making her forget.

Veronica backs away from the mirror and walks towards Liam before turning around. “There’s always that one bra that just doesn’t cooperate,” she says, and then she moves her hair over her shoulder and waits for Liam to unclasp her bra for her.

As the straps fall away from her shoulders, Liam bends down to kiss her shoulder. She can feel the water droplets roll of his skin and onto hers, and she briefly wonders if he’s cold yet from not standing under the spray for so long.

Veronica holds the bra a second or two longer before she slips it down her arms. There’s such a strong urge to cover herself up, and it's not like there's a lot there either, if she’s honest. Taking hormones only does so much, but it’s enough for her chest not to be as flat as it once was.

“You don’t have to, Veronica,” Liam says, breaking her trail of thoughts. He looks serious as ever as he stares at her through the mirror, cups the side of her waist, over her boxers, for a firm grip. It’s meant to be support as much as it is reassurance, and it works. Somehow it works, and Veronica doesn’t look back when she asks Liam to help her out of the only piece of clothing she has left on.

As soon as Liam tugs the boxers down to her knees, Veronica manages to kick them off the rest of the way, doesn’t look where they’ve landed either. She turns in Liam’s arms as soon as she’s done, and while he’d gotten a pretty good look through the mirror, she’d rather do this face to face as if that might make things easier.

It’d be a lie to say that Liam doesn’t glance over her, Veronica does the exact same thing, but she’s no stranger to male bodies. Hers was once that way, and still is in some regard, but her definition is a bit different now. Not only does she have a handful of breasts, but there’s more a curve to her body, filled out in places men typically aren’t. Her stomach is still hard, still lined with what could be defined as abs if she only worked out a little more.

And overall, Veronica’s _different_. It’s not bad - at least, _she_ knows it’s not bad because she looks exactly the way she’s wanted to since she was a teenager. But all of this boils down to Liam and his reaction, and while part of herself feels strong enough to tell Liam to fuck off if he doesn’t like what he sees, Veronica’s always craved other's approval before her own. Doing what she should and what she really feels is difficult. It’s easier said than done, and it’s the fucking truth.

Liam pulls Veronica in after a moment, lets her stand under the spray of water. It’s practically big enough for two, and she can feel all of it run over her skin, hair going damp the longer she stays. “It’s quite big-” and Veronica makes an odd noise in the back of her throat, nearly slaps a hand over her mouth while she’s at it. There’s no doubt that her cheeks are red, might as well be stained that way forever at this point, and before she lets the silence draw Liam any conclusions, Veronica corrects herself. “Roomy,” she corrects herself. “Very spacious in here. In the, um, the shower.”

Pursing her lips seems like the right thing to do, same with looking away, but after a moment, Liam’s fingers are running across her collarbone and up towards her chin. With just a finger, Liam turns her gaze back to him, and if she could flush any more than she already has, she would.

Her boyfriend, Liam, looks completely smitten, though. There’s amusement hidden in the crinkle of his eyes as she smiles softly, and his eyelashes stick together from being wet. Brown may not be a pretty color sometimes, but they are when the light hits them just right, and Liam’s are like a deep shade of bronze.

Veronica would very much like to tell him to fuck off in the nicest way possible, completely let him know that he should stop what he’s doing even though he’s really not doing anything. His stare is nothing less than penetrative, and because of it, there's nothing but warmth thrumming through Veronica.

And Liam could comment, rib her for her accidental innuendo, but he doesn’t. Rather he looks like Veronica could do no wrong, and it doesn’t help when he adds, “You’re so beautiful.”

Those words don’t even compare to the feel of the shower. While the water feels good, sure, there’s nothing quite like hearing him say as much about her. Liam even gets a little closer, as if they weren’t close enough, before leaning in slowly to press his lips against Veronica’s. She hadn’t been expecting it, and her brain kinda quits on her as soon as Liam presses in more, tongue traveling across her bottom lip before biting at it softly.

His kiss makes her feel heavy in such a way that Veronica finds herself leaning on him a little more than she’d consider necessary. However, that’s really not even on her mind, not when Liam’s hand cups the back of her head and kisses her like he truly means it.

She’s breathless by the time he pulls back, needing air despite the fact that this is all she wants. Her mouth feels a little dry now, hard to swallow and she knows that there’s still a conversation waiting to be had. “Yeah?” she finally decides on. It’s the only thing that seems to make sense. Maybe she should compliment Liam back because despite how superficial all of this may seem, it’s important to Veronica that Liam know, too, mostly because part of her identity lies with her body, how she sees herself, and to know that it’s something someone could like, might actually be attracted to, is more of a feeling of relief than pure joy.

Liam liked her enough to be seen with her, to date her, to understand why she chose to dress like one gender over the other for safeties sake, likes her body, and just generally _likes_ her, too. That’s all Veronica’s ever wanted, and she’ll never be hesitant expressing those sentiments to Liam because it’s exactly how she feels about him as well.

“Of course,” Liam says, scrunching up his nose like she’s silly for even thinking he wouldn’t.

They’re still a little too close to each other, but Veronica doesn’t mind, actually liking the fact that their noses bump. It only means they’re that much closer to kissing again.

However, now that they’ve both established where they stand with one another via a form of intimacy, Veronica knows she’s not afraid to ask for more. She won’t, not yet, at least, but the least she can do is finish up their shower before the hot water runs out, and they’re left rinsing off in cold water.

“Well, in that case,” Veronica begins, and that’s when she starts to move around a little, gets comfortable sharing this space with Liam, “if we’re going to use adjectives, you might as well throw in handsome, too.”

“Oh?” Liam nods in thought. “Then what does that make me?” In that short time frame, Liam also moves, hands over what looks to be the only shampoo bottle he’s got in here. Veronica’s definitely not surprised by that, though. Most men just want enough to keep clean and that’s that. Which is fine, it works. As long as it smells good.

Veronica takes it and uses it, doesn’t really care to be picky in a time like this. She combs her fingers through her hair, watches as Liam starts to scrub himself down with a bar of soap before she answers. “Pretty.”

Liam snorts, but he’s not insulted. “Really? What makes you think that?”

Liam’s pretty much done by the time Veronica starts working the shampoo out of her hair, and when he gestures for her to spin around, helping her out by washing the suds away, Veronica thinks about it for a moment. “Funny that you don’t know.”

She doesn’t expect the growl to come from Liam, but she can’t say she doesn’t like it, or that it doesn’t do anything to her because then that’d be a lie. Veronica also knows it’s out of mock frustration, him wanting her to get on with her description, and that fact makes her all the more pleased. And so she waits a minute or two until Liam’s finished with her hair, turns very carefully so that when she’s facing him, she’s got nothing there but innocence.

Which doesn’t do a lick of good because Liam draws her in close to him again before smacking her ass. He’s not even that gentle about it, and Veronica bites her lip and tuts. “Shame you’ve been spending all your time licking pussy, Liam.” And if her voice drops a little, it’s because she’s done it on purpose, not because she’s surprised herself with _those_ kinds of words dripping from her mouth. “You’ve got such _nice_ lips, and I wonder what they’d look like around a cock. Have you thought about it?” She asks nicely because she’s still got to retain some form of decency, and it’s not that she’s very active with the dirty talk either, but Veronica’s got a penchant for playing with sexuality, and by the looks of it, Liam does, too.

He nearly fumbles the bottle of conditioner, and Veronica smirks at his attempt to keep a steady hold of it. “H-have you?”

Veronica gently takes it from his hand, lathers the product up in her hair before handing the bottle back. “About you?” She shrugs, and watches as Liam tries to set the container back where he found it. “What else am I to do in my free time?”

She’s joking, mostly, but Liam doesn’t seem to take it that way, and that’s fine by her because really, he doesn’t seem to be the slightest bit scared. Maybe a little worried at her suggestion, but if Veronica’s being honest, it kinda looks like he’s eager to please, to try it out, at least, for his sake if not Veronica’s.

Liam swallows though, and as soon as he does, she finally rinses everything out of her hair before she decides to turn the water off completely. Liam’s been waiting on her with patience, and Veronica thinks it’s high time they take this somewhere else now. Clearly they’re both eager, and Veronica definitely can’t miss the way that Liam’s already half hard. Continuing to lead him on isn’t very nice.

“Towel?” Veronica asks as soon as she steps out of the shower. The air is cool, and she can’t help but shiver, goosebumps appearing all across her skin.

Liam’s quick about it, though, doesn’t keep her waiting longer than thirty seconds before a big, fluffy towel is wrapped around her shoulders. Liam doesn’t bother with his, just wraps it around his waist until he’s helping her dry off.

Veronica’s a big girl, though. Certainly she can do this all by herself, but Liam’s gentle with his touches as he wipes away the water from her skin. “Better?” he asks.

In response, Veronica smiles and tugs Liam closer by the top of his towel. It’s not tucked in enough to keep it from falling off his hips, and Veronica isn’t bothered enough to apologize either.

She’s careful not to press herself up against him too much, not quite sure what Liam wants to do with her, and considering this’ll be his first time sleeping with someone with different genitalia than he's used to, Veronica wants to make sure that Liam knows what he’s getting into. Of course, actions typically speak louder than words, and the fact that he just took a shower with Veronica should be enough to prove that there’s no problem on Liam’s end. But standing near someone and actual fucking (or otherwise) is two different things, and Veronica’s not going to force Liam to like _all_ of her if it comes down to it.

Veronica’s the first to initiate a kiss, though, and while it’s nowhere near as intense as it was in the shower, it’s still sweet enough to cause Veronica to whine when Liam pulls back. “Tell me what you want?”

“Are you s-”

And then Liam’s shaking his head like he doesn't want her to finish that, doesn’t want her to question anything about this because he’s already here and willing, and that should be enough. Instead, Liam steps even closer to Veronica, enough so that she has to take a step backwards. Thing is, he keeps doing it until Veronica lower back is pressed up against the counter.

She’s not in that position for very long either. Before she knows it, Liam’s got ahold of her and is lifting her up until she’s sitting. The granite is cold against her ass, and she wiggles to try and get away from it, but Liam’s right in front of her, between her legs, and looking at her sternly.

His gaze does not phase her, and Veronica redirects both of their attention to his arms, her hands resting just on his upper shoulders as something to hold on to when he’d lifted her up off the ground. “Just how strong _are_ you?”

Liam shrugs. “If you answer my question, I’m sure we can find out.”

Veronica doesn’t normally eat her words, but she thinks now would be a good time to do so. “I’d like it if you-” and she stalls, just for a second before she squares her shoulders, her own towel falling away from her body. The only part of her that’s really damp is her hair, and while it’s cold against her back, she can live with that.

Liam hums, his hands smoothing over Veronica’s outer thighs, never seeking any other part of her body like she wishes he would. “Fuck me,” Veronica says quietly but as serious as possible. “Liam, like- just _fuck me_ , please.”

After that, Liam looks impressed, maybe a little cocky as he shuffles forward, wrapping his fingers up in Veronica's hair. "Of course, baby. Anything you want. Just tell me what I need to do."

This isn't necessarily unfamiliar territory for Veronica, but what _is_ new is the fact that Liam's willing to relinquish control over to her. It's just enough for Veronica to tell him what he needs to do so they can do this _together_.

"You've got stuff, right?" she asks. "Like a condom? Lube?"

Liam doesn't answer with words, rather he reaches around to one of the cabinets under the sink, shuffling through some stuff before he pulls out exactly what Veronica's asked for. She eyes it with a look that only expresses how impressed she is before she tells Liam what he needs to do next. "You're gonna have to stretch me some," Veronica continues. "Unless you want me-"

The squeeze to her knee is enough for Veronica to stop talking, watching as Liam takes some initiative and grabs the lube. Veronica goes ahead and scoots down until she's close to the edge of the counter. However, it's quite uncomfortable, and she knows she's going to have to lean back some in order for Liam to get at her properly. That, in itself, doesn't sound appealing, so before Liam tries anything, Veronica hops down from where she's sitting. She leaves the towel on the counter and quickly turns around before Liam can ask what she's doing.

Veronica watches as understanding washes over Liam's face, and she smiles when he approaches her from behind. "How careful?" he asks, the question whispered across the smoothness of her shoulder.

"It's been awhile," Veronica admits, not at all worried how that might sound. "Go for one, and I'll let you know."

Liam looks at her pointedly in the mirror as if to tell her that she better do exactly as she said she would by telling him. It's not out of strictly needing to hear her pleasure but knowing that Veronica's not taking on more than she can handle.

The cap of the lube echoes throughout the bathroom, and even though Veronica anticipates Liam's touch, it still surprises her. She ends up leaning forward just a bit, resting her hand against the counter for some kind of support. It's then that she feels Liam again, finger already circling her hole.

Veronica watches Liam in the mirror, and so far, he's way too busy looking down. Which, that's fine by Veronica. Liam will have plenty of time to watch her fall apart when he's balls deep in her ass. For now, all Veronica wants is for Liam to enjoy himself, watch as Veronica opens up for him so nicely before he sinks himself knuckle-deep into her heat.

Liam takes his time doing so, though, finger catching the rim of Veronica’s hole. She’d like to push back, but when she’d said it’d been awhile, she wasn’t lying. Being impatient isn’t going to be any good, so Veronica waits until Liam feels that they’re both ready before finally pushing in. As he does so, his eyes flicker back and forth to what he’s doing and Veronica, who only has eyes for him.

“That okay?” Liam asks when he can’t go any further. His thumb smoothes over the skin just above her ass while his chin catches her shoulder, steadily asking her the same question with his eyes.

Veronica, on the other hand, licks her lips and tries to focus on breathing properly. It’s not that Liam’s really doing anything, but she can feel him, and all she wants it more. “Another,” she says, voice cracking in the process.

And Liam listens without another word.

The second finger feels even better than the first, and Veronica ends up shifting her stance a little wider, a little more open for Liam. As soon as he’s two fingers deep, Veronica gently pushes back, and that’s all Liam needs to start playing. Veronica doesn’t give him guidance; she will, if he asks, but there’s not really a point in doing so when Liam’s already stretching his fingers out as wide as he can get them, scissoring and twisting like he’s got something to prove.

Veronica can’t help it when her hand curls around the edge of the counter. Liam’s doing wonderfully, even pressing up against her prostate every so often, just a brush without any real pressure.

While Veronica could very much push back into Liam, rock herself forward then back again, she doesn’t give into that because it’d mean she’d be the only one feeling any pleasure, and although Liam might be enjoying the view, Veronica wants him to enjoy it with her. So, Veronica removes her hand from the counter and lets herself lean against Liam instead. He takes her easily, arm wrapping around her waist. It proves to be a good thing too, gives him a little more leverage by keeping her still, and that’s when Veronica reaches around for Liam.

She strokes him softly with the pads of her fingers, and while his face reads a bit of confusion at first, Liam eventually lets her have what she wants, pressing his hips a little further in so she can touch. From their angle, it’s hard to get a nice, steady grip on him, but her lose hand is just enough stimulation to feel Liam grow harder. He plumps up nicely in her hand, each stroke a little quicker, a little rougher, and all of that leads to Liam being less careful with his fingers.

He’s a bit rough when he pulls them out, only to push them back into Veronica. There are still only two fingers, but he takes initiative and adds a third when Veronica’s pretty much slick with lube.

As Liam gets in all three fingers, Veronica stalls, her own movements temporarily lost, can’t seem to concentrate on much else just because it feels so damn good. There is no burn, but there’s a nice stretch, and her jaw goes a little too slack. The low moan that precedes it is something to be expected, but Veronica can tell when it takes Liam by surprise. He’s got this casual little smirk on his face once Veronica can find it in her to look at him, trying hard not to close her eyes. She squeezes him, Liam’s cock still settled into the palm of her hand.

It’s then that she realizes that Liam’s not going to do anything more than finger-fuck her until she tells him otherwise, and as much fun as that is, as _good_ as it is, looking at each other through the mirror, cocky because they’re both able to give each other something, Veronica has to remind herself that yeah, she’s going to have to take lead again, if only for a moment. She can come like this, untouched with only Liam’s fingers buried deep in her ass, her jacking him off until he covers her backside with cum.

But that’s not what she wanted, nor is it what they agreed on; so finally, Veronica lets Liam go and decides to speak up. “If you’re gonna fuck me, you better take me to bed,” she says. “This kind of stuff is gonna have to come later.” She means screwing in front of the mirror, or any other place they can think of. Veronica just wants Liam close and would rather not have their first time together like this. Sex is sex no matter which way it’s had, but Veronica wants Liam closer than this, wants to be able to lick into his mouth and watch as he falls over that edge.

When Liam pulls away from her, Veronica can’t say she’s not disappointed. The loss of his fingers make her feel empty, and the only way to fix that problem is for them to move into the other room. Veronica’s trying not to be impatient, but they’ve waited long enough.

After Veronica reaches for the lube, Liam having discarded it next to the condom, she takes both before she turns and offers her hand for Liam to take.

Liam doesn’t, rather he corners her against the counter again, pressing his lips against her jaw before leaning down slightly. Veronica wonders what he’s doing, but when she feels the palm of his hand slide over the back of her knee, urging her to lift her leg up, she follows. Her inner thigh touches his waist, and Liam’s careful to place his hand just below the small swell of her ass, helping her off her feet until he’s the only thing keeping her upright. “And again I ask, just how strong are you?” Veronica wiggles a little, legs encircling Liam’s lower half while she supports the rest of herself by wrapping her arms around Liam’s neck.

“Guess figuring that out is gonna have to come later,” Liam says, practically repeating Veronica’s own words.

She groans and settles for nuzzling into the crook of Liam’s neck while he finally moves to the bedroom. There’s a slight shift in the air, going from the bathroom to the bedroom (with nearly running into the wall, which almost results in Veronica falling on her ass, Liam laughing at the near misfortune. Veronica joined in after, though. Can’t take everything too seriously when the night’s already proven to take matters into its own hands). There’s less warmth, way less steam that feels suffocating, and the first breath of cool air is a nice contrast now that Veronica notices a difference.

The walk to the bed seems a little drawn out, but maybe that’s just because Veronica keeps distracting Liam everytime he takes a step. With her face still pressed into his neck, she bites and licks, and occasionally thrusts her hips forward. Her cock’s trapped between their tummies, and it’d be a wasted opportunity not to at least enjoy the friction.

Whenever she does that, though, Liam tends to squeeze her ass. It’s probably a warning sign, that he likes the feeling a little too much, but Veronica doesn’t listen and keeps going until Liam’s carefully lowering her down onto the bed.

Instantly, she releases the items in her hands, doesn’t care where they go for the time being, especially not when Liam’s hovering over her now. She smiles, looks up through the thick of her lashes, using the strength in her legs to pull Liam down even further. Veronica hadn’t necessarily been aiming to do anything but feel Liam pressed up against her, so she can’t help it when she lets out a soft sigh when their cocks finally slide against each other.

Liam looks a little taken aback for a moment, moves his hips forward to do it again, and Veronica can’t help the round of laughter that escapes from behind her lips. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” She matches his rhythm though, likes how it feels rutting against someone else after so long of not doing so. Veronica’s missed this, if she’s honest, never was the kind to go out on a whim to find some random stranger to hook up with. It most likely has to do with the intimacy and the fact that it brings her a lot more joy than a simple pleasure fuck.

“Absolutely,” Liam responds. He’s trying his best to keep his noises down, but that doesn’t work when Veronica reaches between the two of them, taking the both of them in her hand. Trying her best to keep a steady grip, Veronica fucks up into her palm, cock sliding against Liam’s precisely now that there’s something holding them in place. “ _Veronica_ ,” Liam whines, but even if he sounds like it’s too much for him to handle, he doesn’t stop moving above her. “Could get off like this, yeah.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Her tongue presses up behind her teeth when she smiles, eyes filled with lots of different emotions. Knowing she’s able to elicit this kind of response from Liam is thrilling, and all she wants is more, to watch him as he slides into her, watch his reaction when he’s settled in so deep. All Veronica wants to know is if she’s good, _better_ than anyone he’s ever been with.

It might be a stretch for him to admit that, Veronica knowing that sometimes good sex takes practice, especially when it comes to new partners, but part of her hopes, at least, that she’s managed to prove something to Liam.

“Can I-” and Liam, as much as he tries to speak again, well, the words seem to get a little lost in this throat. Veronica thinks she knows what he’s getting at, and she’d like to tell him he doesn’t even need to ask twice. Although, instead of saying anything, Veronica reaches out for the condom and the lube, patiently handing them over while Liam sits up and preps himself.

He’s quick about it, not too eager, but enough to concentrate and get the job done. The condom sits tightly around his cock, and he pumps himself a few times, dispersing lube down the entire shaft before he gathers Veronica’s legs, nudging her to spread them wider.

While Veronica waits, she decides to touch herself. Her cock is heavy against the lower part of her stomach, leaking just enough pre-cum to pool into the dip of her tummy. She works slowly, knows by now that they’ve worked themselves well enough that it should take more than a few thrusts before they’re finished. Veronica would be embarrassed, Liam might be, too, but she’s not concerned with that, not when they’ll both be satisfied.

Pressing the tip of her thumb into her slit, Veronica unexpectedly thrusts upwards at her sensitivity, all of it overwhelming to the point where she starts begging Liam to enter her. “C’mon, babe,” she says, voice lows and what she hopes is sultry. “Just need you, _please_.”

Liam visibly swallows, and for a moment he looks a little panicked, like anything and everything could go wrong, like _he’d_ be the one to screw something up.

But Veronica’s there with the gentlest of touches, fingers encircling his wrist and drawing him forward. “Very straightforward, Liam,” she explains in the most calm voice she can muster up at a time like this. “You know exactly how this goes.”

That seems to settle him enough to get into position, pressing the tip of his cock just at the rim of Veronica’s hole. As soon as she feels it there, she’s got to squeeze herself, putting a little bit of pressure around her cock just so she won’t cum too soon.

Little by little, Liam pushes in, his hand guiding himself until there’s less of a chance that he’ll pull out too easily. While he’d been sitting back on his legs for this, Liam not only pulls Veronica down towards him (which not only forces his cock to sink in a little deeper), Liam also leans over her again, settles most of his weight onto his forearms while he’s at it.

After that, Veronica’s teeth find her lip, already feeling overwhelmed just by having Liam like this. He sends her a look, like maybe she’s not telling him she’s in pain, but she shakes her head, and with a broken voice she simply states, “Full, Liam. _Fuck_ , you feel so good.”

That response seems to spur Liam on, and before they both know it, Liam gives a sharp little thrust, and then he’s balls deep, their hips smacking together, Veronica’s cock trapped between them again.

The weight, and the pressure, and _everything_ is so profound for Veronica that all she can do is touch Liam, gently run her nails over his back while she watches the shift of emotions cross over his face. The first is nothing less than surprise, either because he’s made Veronica so pliant, a babbling mess of emotions in just one go, or because he knows exactly what he’s been missing, the heat and the tightness surrounding his cock, that pleasure thrumming through his nerves. The second, however, is determination, and as soon as he’s given them both enough time to get over that first time feeling, Liam carefully pulls out of Veronica, not all the way, but just enough to thrust forward again.

He’s quite slow and deliberate, but Veronica finds that that’s good enough for her, helps her get used to the feeling of being with someone again, along with drawing out every sensation she feels. It’ll never be about lasting long as much as it is experiencing exactly what’s happening.

Soon though, Liam eventually finds a pace he’s comfortable with, Veronica meeting him halfway from time to time, only when she’s not moaning or clawing at Liam’s back enough to concentrate.

Their position is overly simple, and Veronica only feels half bad that she’s not putting in as much work as Liam, but she makes up for it in other ways, likes dancing her fingertips across his skin, tongue flicking over his nipples and tugging on them with her teeth.

She must give Liam an idea then because he’s pushing her away, wants her all to himself, apparently, when he starts at her mouth, brushes little wet kisses across their shape. Liam then, works his way down, licking at her neck and stroking the area where hips meet thigh, just a tease because he’s close to touching her but not quite there yet.

Veronica might ask for him to do that, but she’s completely sidetracked when Liam’s tongue flicks out of his mouth with intent, across the bud of her nipple that instantly hardens as soon as he does it again.

She sucks in a breath, totally not used to that sensation, and although Liam’s been paying close enough attention to her, making sure she’s comfortable with anything they’ve done so far and will possible do later on, this isn’t something Liam looks all that concerned with.

Veronica watches as Liam keeps on, just little kitten licks until he’s got one breast in the palm of his hand, thumb brushing against the nipple while he finally gets his mouth around the other one. Veronica can totally feel Liam’s cock fucking her nicely, but some of that seems to take a backseat when he gentle sucks, massaging her with his tongue, teasing and lapping.

And surely, they’ll be a little sore come morning, but fuck it if Liam’s gonna play with her like this. It feels too good to pass up. She’s only really been with one other guy who’d actually liked them, but even then, he’d liked them a little more than Veronica herself, paid too much attention to them for her liking, and that, to Veronica, wasn’t okay. Liam’s totally not like that, however, and while it might be questionable at the moment, all Veronica has to do is refer to the past couple of months via a relationship building without any sex, not because they specifically wanted it that way, but because that’s what worked out best for them.

And boy did it, because all of _this_ was worth the wait.

Liam doesn’t just pay attention to one of her breasts, but the other one, too. He teases, rolls the bud in-between his teeth until Veronica’s hissing and arching the small of her back. That only brushes her dick against Liam’s body, probably smearing a little pre-cum along the way.

But what it also does is draw Liam’s complete attention, pulling off Veronica’s nipple only to reveal shiny, spit-covered lips. He looks like he’s got something on his mind, but before he can voice it, Veronica’s leaning up to taste him. It’s not that she doesn’t want him to speak, but his mouth is red and gorgeous, and really, what she said in the bathroom earlier about Liam having these goddamn lips, she really wonders if he’ll be down for blowing her one of these days.

It’s a conversation for another day, however, especially when Liam pulls back enough to view Veronica. His eyes flicker over her face, taking her in, and she’s probably just as flushed as he is, cheeks red, hair unruly.

“Can I touch you?” Liam suddenly asks as he leans down to softly connects their lips together again. His tongue swipes over Veronica’s bottom lip, nipping at the corner until she can give him a straight answer.

“You’re already fucking me,” Veronica states, and she probably would’ve given him an answer that was a little more sarcastic if they weren’t in such a position. Liam’s angled himself in a way that’s perfect, brushing up against that bundle of nerves each time he moves his hips. There’s never too much pressure against it, but the consistent slide of Liam’s dick over Veronica’s prostate is just enough stimulation to keep her on edge. She’s slowly crawling to that finish line, and she’s sure that once Liam touches her properly, she’ll be gone in a matter of seconds. “Pretty sure you could do anything right about now, and I’d be okay with it.”

Liam’s eyes crinkle at the corners, brow a little sweaty, and hair somewhat matted. He manages to reach down between them, Veronica anticipating the moment he touches her-

And there it is, his calloused hands around her cock for the first time. Like in the bathroom earlier, Veronica’s jaw goes a little slack, head falling to the side, and eyes close as she tries to fuck up into his fist.

All it is is the slow drag of his palm, and the fact that he keeps on it with his hips, all of it steady, so constant in motion. Veronica can’t help it when she curls her hand around Liam’s bicep, mewls out the words, “‘m gonna cum,” and then she’s there, arching off the bed just a little. Her toes curl, and there’s only drops of pre-cum that escape her cock, and whether Liam notices the fact that there’s no spunk, he doesn’t comment. Especially not with the fact that Veronica’s muscles contract around Liam, pulled tight and quite unexpected on Liam’s end. Because of that, he gets a little shaky and loses focus, eyes turning a glassy until he finds himself again.

Veronica’s now sensitive all over, but Liam keeps touching her, keeps going until she’s ridden out her high completely, until she’s urging him to chase after his own orgasm. She may or may not taunt him, tells him he can do whatever he wants to her later if he just cums for her.

As if to seal that promise, Veronica runs her fingers through Liam’s hair, grabs at the roots before bringing him down to practically smash their lips together. It’s more teeth than it is tongue, rough around the edges, but the only thing left is Liam licking into Veronica’s mouth before he’s calling her name, and then he’s gone, too.

Liam spills into the condom, and his thrusting grows shallow as he rides out the all of the sudden pleasure, Veronica still pliant underneath him as she brushes her lips against his cheeks, along his jaw and his neck. She hasn’t had the opportunity to really suck a bruise onto Liam’s neck, but she thinks she might want to do that at some point, make sure there’s some kind of mark left behind for the both of them to see.

Eventually, Liam slows down to a complete stop; although, he stays inside Veronica while he buries his face into the crook of her neck. She can feel his heavy breathing. They’re practically chest to chest at this point, and if she could, Veronica knows she’d choose to stay like this for longer than a few seconds.

However, Liam does start to tremble, his muscles gone weak from having been supporting himself the entire time. So, before he does fall, Liam pulls away, just enough to slip out of Veronica, the squelch of the lube the only other loud noise aside from their heavy breathing. Liam then drops down onto his side, close enough that he’s still leaning over Veronica without hurting her. He draws in short breaths, little pants, chest rising and falling in quick sessions, but he looks positively radiant when he looks down at her, uses his left hand to cup Veronica’s face. The brush of his fingers against her skin is so gentle, a little calloused, but careful as he traces her features, across the bridge of her nose, over her eyelids, then on to her mouth. “Most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen,” Liam mentions, still trailing the pads of his fingers across her face.

Veronica gives him a dazed kind of smile, thinks he’s kind of corny because honestly, Liam should see himself. “You flatter me too much.”

With a shake of his head, Liam leans down to kiss her, just as soft and gentle as always, and while Veronica would very much like him to stay, the heat of his body solid against hers, he pulls away too quickly for her liking.

Turns out, Liam’s only gone to throw away the condom, but then he’s right there again just a few seconds later. He urges her up so he can move the comforter back, crawling under the sheets before guiding Veronica to join him. Only, instead of Veronica laying on the other side of the bed, Liam draws her into his lap, him propped up by the many pillows near the headboard.

As soon as Veronica gets comfortable, the whole of her back pressed up against his chest, she takes his hand in hers, drawing invisible things onto the back of it.

They’re quiet except for the sound of their breathing, but that’s quite alright because Liam’s wrapped around Veronica so nicely, she wouldn’t change it for the world. Her head’s resting against his shoulder, and all she has to do is look up to find Liam there doing the same.

And maybe the shyness has creeped back into the air, or they just really don’t know what to say, but it’s written in the feel of their bones, in their lax bodies, and the way Liam plays with her hair. They’re small, significant touches, and Veronica thinks she might be able to fall asleep like this. Later on, it might be highly uncomfortable, but it’s the thought that counts.

Instead, Veronica gets to thinking, and it’s such a quick thought that it kind of takes her by surprise, to even suggest such a thing is rather big. However, she knows the notion wouldn’t’ve shown up if she hadn’t been subconsciously thinking about it, or if she didn’t trust Liam completely.

There are pros and cons to everything, and even if this relationship goes sour at some point, Veronica can trust that Liam would respect her enough to always keep this particular piece of information safe. So, Veronica clears her throat, kisses the back of Liam’s hand before she glances straight ahead to the windows opposite the bed, not having the courage to look at Liam when she goes ahead and asks her question. “Do you want to know what my name is?” she proceeds. “Probably already know it if you’ve looked at my file.”

Liam goes rigid for a moment before he relaxes. “I haven’t.” Which is enough for Veronica to believe him. “And only if you want to, Veronica. You’ve already shared so much with me.”

What he means by that is quite ambiguous, but she figures he’s talking about tonight, about all those times he’s listened to her speak about herself, so open and honest in his questions, never judging, never embarrassed for not being right all the time.

“I think I want you to know.” It’s the truth, part of her does want him to, not that it’ll ever be used unless she feels like. Veronica thinks she wouldn’t mind. “You won’t use it against me?”

Liam’s arms wrap around her waist a little tighter before he presses a kiss onto her temple. “Never,” he murmurs.

So, Veronica licks her lips and ignores the way her hands are a little shaky. “Zayn,” she simply says. “Like, it’s usually spelled with an I, but apparently I thought I was cool and started spelling it with a Y instead.” And she snorts, thinking back to her younger self in school. It’d never been done out of rebelliousness or hating the original spelling, but back then, Zayn had been different, liked to sit in the back of the class and draw, always surprised teachers with the correct answers even when they thought he wasn’t listening.

“It’s kind of weird to say it,” Veronica admits, turning to look up at Liam. He looks particularly thoughtful, like he’s trying to picture a time when Veronica was different - not someone else, no. Who she was then is definitely who she is now, of course, with some changes and a little more wisdom. Veronica would like to believe that, at least.

“No one else uses it?” Liam glances down, too, and while he’s at it, instead of Veronica tracing the back of his hand, he twists his wrist out of her grasp only to reach for Veronica’s hand instead. The pad of his thumb is gentle as he goes over her knuckles, just like it was when he’d touched her just moments ago. “I like it.”

“Yeah? That’s good.” Veronica allows herself to shift, turning more into Liam’s chest than she was before. The thought of falling asleep right here seems nice, and it’s a wonder how long it’ll take for her to actually do so. “My parents,” she adds. “Mum, especially, if she’s angry. Like, if I don’t call her for a few days- things like that. Can’t ever disappoint her.”

Liam hums in agreement, and while the subject of family has certainly been discussed, neither of them have talked about meetings. Veronica’s okay with that. She doesn’t need to be showed off, doesn’t really care for the deep need to impress, and she’s positive it’ll happen one of these days regardless, often wonders what Liam might tell his only family when it comes to _them_.

But that’s another problem for another day.

“Tired?” His words are whispered against her forehead, and before she knows it, Liam’s running a soothing hand down her side, supporting her just behind her thighs and her shoulders before he shifts them down onto the bed. Veronica isn’t resting against him anymore, but at least she’s pressed close enough.

She hopes she’s not being clingy. After all, Liam had been the one to let her near him, but once Liam’s settled, only slightly propped up, he lets her choose where she wants to be. That ends up being tangled up with Liam, his shoulder supporting her head, an arm thrown a little less than casually around her waist. Veronica’s hesitant to shift a leg over his, but does it anyway before sighing.

They both smell like sweat and sex, and maybe it’s not a good idea to go to bed right at the fact. Even though they took a shower, Veronica thinks it might be good to have another one, but Liam’s question is left unanswered, and her response is ultimately the deciding factor on her really not wanting to get up.

“Wake me up in an hour,” she tells him like she means it. “I want a round two, and maybe another shower.”

Veronica can’t really see Liam’s face, but she knows he’s got his eyes on her, probably looking at her with equal parts fondness and stubbornness because there’s no way he’ll actually listen to her request. “Okay, sure.” Knowing Liam, he’ll let her sleep throughout the night and _then_ take her up on her offer come morning.

Which isn’t all that bad, to be honest. Veronica’s pretty sure she can wait until then, as long as they’re both willing, and she can get what she wants.

To show her less than real annoyance, though, Veronica’s lips pull into a frown and she nudges his arm but makes no further remark other than to settle onto Liam as he flips on the television. It hangs in the corner of the room, close to the ceiling, and it’s rather convenient.

“Anything you want to watch?”

Veronica shrugs, not really bothered until Liam settles on something she’s not familiar with. It’s some kind of black and white film, that of the forties, and maybe it’s actually good. Who knows? Veronica won’t, at least, because maybe it’s the flashing of stale shades on the screen, or how Liam takes deep steady breaths while she lays on his chest, arm curled around his waist, that makes Veronica tired enough to actually close her eyes.

And before she even knows it, she’s the first to fall asleep.

+

Veronica wakes up sometime in the middle of the night. She'd check her phone, but she's not concerned, just feels the effects of being with Liam all throughout her body. It's pleasant, though, and even if it's comforting, Veronica doesn't think she's going to be able to fall back asleep any time soon.

Despite being pressed against Liam, Veronica slowly climbs out of bed, careful not to make too much noise or dip the mattress in a weird way that might cause Liam to wake. She uses the restroom first, thinks that's a good idea before slipping back in under the sheets and trying her best to get a couple more hours in.

However, the windows to the left gain her attention

Liam apparently likes to leave the curtains open, had been when they'd had sex, but they're high and far away enough not to be looked into from the outside. On top of that, a nice mixture of city lights shine through while casting shadows amongst the walls. It climbs towards the end of the bed, stretching no further than that. It honestly creates a nice contrast against the rest of the darkness.

Veronica finds herself walking over to one of the windows, looking around at the vines before her. It's quite breathtaking, really. The city is right before her, only a small amount of vehicles driving at this time of night. She can hear the faint sound of car horns, wild and animated, as their owners try to get to where they're going.

"What are you doing?"

The voice is soft enough not to startle Veronica. Liam sounds sleepy, and she can hear him shuffle around on the bed. "It's so beautiful," Veronica says, her voice just as calm and quiet. She'd hate to disturb the peace, the overwhelming feeling of seeing something so important.

"Are you sure?" Liam asks. "I'm pretty convinced I'm already staring at something like that."

Veronica can't help her smile, turning slowly until she finds Liam halfway out of bed. Eventually, he slides out, nothing on but his boxers and makes his way towards Veronica.

"Flattery will get you nowhere,” she retorts, but Liam only grins.

He takes her hand when he gets close enough, presses a kiss to her palm before gently guiding her around until they're both facing the window. Veronica, if she looks hard enough, can see their reflection in the glass, how Liam's resting his chin on her shoulder, lips pressed against her neck, and an arm wrapped snugly around her waist. It's like he's afraid she might turn away from him, or that she might break. He's gentle with her because he cares, but strong enough to prove his affections.

"Really?"

Veronica can feel Liam grin against her neck, nipping at the skin until he trails down to her shoulder. As part of her answer, Veronica nudges Liam with her elbow. “Yes, really,” she explains, but there’s lightness in her voice, like she’s not being serious at all. “Sometimes, maybe, but not always.”

The silence is what comes after, but it only stays shortly when Liam says, “You should come back to bed.”

At that, Veronica does feel the drowsiness settle into her bones, eyes a little heavier than they were just a few minutes before. Maybe it’s got to do with Liam and the warmth his body brings, being pressed up against him like this and doing nothing but bringing her comfort. “Was just fine until you got up,” she proceeds, but she doesn’t mean it the way it might sound. So, she turns in Liam’s arms and asks him to lead them back in bed, but that doesn’t happen as quickly as she expects.

Instead, Liam’s gazing at her, eyes a little heavy from having woken up too early, too, hair mussed, and face nearly as lax as it is when he’s sleeping. He’s careful when he brings a hand to Veronica’s face, outlining her jaw by dancing his fingertips across the expanse of her skin. They eventually trail to her ear, grazing it softly.

It doesn’t tickle, but Veronica does like the shiver that goes down her spine as Liam continues on. Finally, though, his fingers run through her hair, pulling it carefully behind her ear until he’s smiling softly down at her. “Is it too early to tell you that I love you?” Liam quietly asks, eyes darting across her face like he might’ve just made a mistake, and he’s waiting on her reaction to confirm it for him.

“Dunno,” Veronica replies right after, unsure of how she should feel since her heart doesn’t race at his admission. “Depends, I guess. Do you mean it?”

Liam looks at her with determined eyes, sleep ebbing away quite quickly like he’s got something to prove. He’s serious, and Veronica’s sure she’s only seen him like that a handful of times. “Absolutely,” he admits. “Wouldn’t lie to you about something like this.”

Veronica knows she visibly swallows, and her fingers skim across Liam’s collarbone like she’s trying to find something there. And whether he’s expecting her to say it back, he doesn’t say as much. Liam’s looking at her like she’s pretty much the most wonderful thing in the world, like her being here in his room, in his _bed_ , is a privilege.

That in itself is overwhelming, so instead of finding her words, knowing the both of them should really return to the word of dreams, Veronica leans in and kisses him gently before breaking away and slowly guiding them back to bed. She tucks herself into his side, her head against his shoulder while Liam slings an arm across her waist. Despite the need to close her eyes, Veronica doesn’t, just traces patterns across Liam’s stomach, lets the rise and fall of his chest soothe her.

And if at one point she presses the words _I love you, too_ into the heat of his body, right there in the crook of her neck, the only thing that lets her know that Liam actually heard her is the fact that his arm tightens around her body for just a fraction of a second.

It’s so quick and simple, and Veronica might think she’s imagined it come morning, when the sun has risen, and it’s peaking through the curtains. But she doesn’t worry about it, not in the way she thinks she ought to. That, in itself, is less of a startling thought as it is one of peace because what worries should she have when everything’s already gone accordingly, turned out better than she ever could’ve imagined?

It’s probably really cliche, and a little too storybook romance for anyone else’s liking, but then again, who doesn’t like a happy ending?

++

_Veronica’s nearing twenty-seven the first time she walks into the office in a business suit._

_It’s been a long time since she’s purposefully discarded the pencil skirt and blouse, but it’s convenient, thrilling, even, to be able to express more than just half of what she feels inside._

_Plus, Liam’s casual mention of her looking_ dashing _in one of his suits the time he challenged her to try it on, had only left him speechless. Veronica, more than anything, had been completely prepared to show off her true colors after that._

_Besides, she does look quite fitting in a tie._

_Or in a suit._

_Or in a skirt._

_(Or hell, in nothing but her birthday suit. Liam says so himself)._

_Now, though, and the main point, is that there is no box, no restrictions or confinement, and it’s made even better when previous reservations are no longer standing in her way._

_Veronica’s felt like herself for quite a long time. It’s just nice to know she can go to work and feel that way there, too._

++


End file.
